


A Royal Christmas

by flowersheep



Series: A Royal Christmas [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, M/M, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersheep/pseuds/flowersheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin wasn't sure what to expect when his boyfriend revealed himself to be a prince, but it certainly didn't involve being whisked off to a place he'd never even heard of before for the holiday season. Add in a hostile king, a devious princess, and a ball and Merlin is starting to feel more like he's landed himself in some bizarre fairytale. But as long as he's got Arthur, everything will be fine.</p><p>Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Royal Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> _Now fully edited! (though not beta'd)_
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> One day when I was channel surfing, despairing over the lack of anything interesting to watch, I stumbled upon a Christmas movie on the Hallmark channel called A Royal Christmas and immediately though, _oh my god I bet this would be an amazing merthur AU_. So I watched it and, sure enough, I spent the entire movie imagining Arthur in the role of Prince Leo and Merlin in the role of Emily. Obviously, this meant I needed to write a fic.
> 
> So here it is, the merthur AU inspired by a cheesy, cliche Hallmark Christmas movie! that admittedly almost didn't get finished because of The Force Awakens (all I wanted to write was Star Wars AU after watching it).

The first thing Arthur was aware of was the smell of breakfast. Waffles, he was pretty sure. Paired with some fresh fruit and…syrup. Maybe. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure on that one. It was an awfully strong smell, considering Arthur was still in bed, tucked under the covers, and the kitchen was all the way down the hall. There was also something sitting on him, something warm and heavy, almost but not quite suffocating. Kind of comfortable, actually.

“Arthur,” a voice whispered, drawing Arthur further away from sleep. There was a singsong quality to it that was just shy of irritating. “Arthur. If you don’t wake up you won’t get any waffles. I’ll just eat them all myself.”

“That’s mean,” Arthur mumbled, opening his eyes. Merlin smiled down at him.

“That’s the circle of life, my friend,” he said. “Also, it’s almost nine. I have to leave soon if I don’t want to be late and you insisted that you were going to come with me.”

“I did, didn’t I.” Arthur looked at the plate balanced in Merlin’s hands. “Are those my waffles?”

“Yep.”

“You’re serving me breakfast in bed?”

Merlin laughed and leaned down to kiss him. “You wish. I just knew the smell would wake you up because you can’t resist my homemade waffles.”

“It’s true. They’re amazing. Like my boyfriend.”

“Flattery will not get you breakfast in bed. If you want these waffles you’re just gonna have to drag your arse to the kitchen.”

“Meanie.”

“You should thank me,” Merlin said as he climbed off Arthur. “Once you find a job you’ll have to get up early all the time. Probably even earlier than this. I’m preparing you for the future.” He disappeared out the door.

“Says the man who went through great lengths to arrange all his uni classes so that he wouldn’t have to get up before noon!” Arthur called after him. Merlin’s hand reappeared around the doorframe to give him a rude gesture and Arthur grinned.

-

The bakery was already bustling by the time Merlin and Arthur got there. Will shot Merlin an accusing ‘ _And just_ where _have you been_ ’ look and Merlin gestured to his boyfriend in answer. In theory, they should have arrived in plenty of time for Merlin to help out with prepping for the day and the opening of the bakery at ten. But the shower Merlin had taken that morning had been much longer than he’d originally planned, due to unexpected interference in the form of Arthur joining him. It was hard to remember you were on a schedule when your boyfriend was doing amazing things to you with his hands.

“Help with the register?” Merlin asked Arthur, already rolling up his sleeves and heading behind the counter.

“Sure,” Arthur agreed. He went over and changed places with Will, who immediately made for the kitchen. Arthur made a great cashier. Customers always loved him for his gorgeous smile, warmth, and friendliness. 

“I see you dragged your man along today,” Freya commented as she brought out another batch of their signature holiday peppermint fudge. The display was still mostly full, but they tended to go through it fast so it was always good to have extra on hand.

“His idea, actually,” Merlin said, shrugging. He glanced over to see Arthur listening diligently to an elderly woman as he rang up her purchase. “Maybe we should just hire him on as our permanent cashier.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Freya said. “I mean I assume he hasn’t got a job yet, has he?”

“Not yet, but he’s only just graduated.”

“Hey!” Hunith poked her head through the doorway leading to the back kitchen and frowned at them. “I hope you two aren’t just standing around chatting when you’re supposed to be working. Merlin, come finish up these rice krispies while I get started on some pies and Freya, we’ve got a potential catering gig on the twenty third so I need you to make up a menu.”

“We’ll get right on it Mum,” Merlin promised. He helped Freya set out the fudge before heading back to the kitchen to get to work.

Just after lunchtime there was a break in the stream of customers and Merlin took advantage of it to snag some of the peppermint fudge to share with Arthur while Freya took over the register. Hunith came over and leaned on the back of Merlin’s chair.

“Thank you so much for your help this morning, Arthur,” she said.

“It was no trouble Ms. Emrys,” Arthur said.

“Oh please, Arthur, you can drop the Ms. You’ve been dating my son for how long now? A year?”

“Almost.”

“Exactly. Believe me, if I didn’t approve of you you would know by now.”

“Mum,” Merlin groaned.

“What? You have to admit that you’re dating history isn’t exactly-”

“Mum! Can you not announce that to the general public?”

“I’m just saying, I _like_ this one and I’m looking forward to him spending Christmas with us this year.”

“I’m looking forward to it as well,” Arthur said, just as his phone went off. He glanced at the screen and frowned. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I really need to take this.” Merlin waved him off and then raised his eyebrows in concern when, instead of just going to the other side of the bakery as Merlin had expected, Arthur went out onto the sidewalk before answering.

“He really is lovely,” Hunith said.

“Yeah, he is,” Merlin agreed.

“Could do with a job though.”

“He’s only just graduated, Mum, he’s still looking.”

“Personally,” Freya called, “I like Merlin’s idea of just hiring him to be our cashier.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Hunith said. As she and Freya took that idea and ran with it, Merlin looked out the window at where Arthur was pacing up and down the sidewalk. He didn’t look happy. _I wonder who called him_.

-

“Wait, wait, wait,” Will said, finally tearing his eyes away from the football match on the telly when Merlin’s words sank in. “He said he needed to talk to you about something.”

“Yes,” Merlin said, distracted by trying to figure out what to wear.

“In a public place.”

“Yes.”

“And he looked serious when he said it.”

“Very serious.”

“He’s gonna break up with you.”

Merlin turned around to glare at Will. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m just saying,” Will said, turning back to the match.

“And what makes you such an expert?” Merlin snapped. He picked up a pair of black trousers. Yes, these would be perfect. Freya said they made his arse look great.

“Hello, remember all the girls I’ve broken up with?” Will reminded him.

“Yeah, that’s really not something to be proud of.”

“Shut up. It means I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing.”

“True, but Arthur’s not as much of an ass as you are.”

“Not what you said when you first met him.”

“It was finals week, we were both stressed.”

“But you kept saying it for like three months after that.”

“Weeks.”

“Whatever. Where’s he taking you anyway?”

“Avalon.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “Hm. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s not breaking up with you.”

Merlin sighed as he finally selected a light green button up and set it aside with the trousers. “Why does the restaurant he’s taking me to have anything to do with whether or not you think he’s gonna break up with me?”

“Avalon is posh, isn’t it? You don’t take someone somewhere posh to break up with them. At least, I don’t. Maybe he’s different because _he’s_ posh. Okay, never mind, on second thought he’s still gonna break up with you.”

“Oh my god,” Merlin muttered.

“Or maybe he’s going to tell you that he’s really a serial killer.”

“Will!”

“Or that he’s already married and wants you to be his mistress.”

“ _Will_!”

-

By the time the cab pulled up outside Avalon Merlin was seriously tempted to just tell the driver to turn around and take him back to his flat. He hadn’t really been nervous about this evening until Will had opened his big fat mouth about breakups and serial killers, but now it was all he could think about. It was stupid, he told himself as he smoothed out imaginary wrinkles on his shirt. There was no reason to be worried. Yes, Arthur had seemed a little on edge when he’d asked to meet at an upscale restaurant, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything bad. Will was just being a pessimist. Everything was fine. Probably.

A nervous smile appeared on Arthur’s face when he saw Merlin. “I’m glad you could make it,” Arthur said, getting up to kiss Merlin on the cheek before they sat. “You look great by the way.”

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself,” Merlin said. Compliments were a good thing, right? You wouldn’t compliment someone you were about to break up with. Unless you were trying to soften the blow by lightening the mood. _Stop it_ , Merlin told himself. He reached for the wine and poured himself a glass, more for something to do than any actual desire to get drunk. He was a terrible lightweight. “So what’s this about? You don’t usually take me somewhere nice like this unless it’s a special occasion.”

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Arthur said, hesitant. All of Will’s worst case scenarios flooded Merlin’s mind again. He swallowed, bracing himself.

Arthur hesitated again. “I’m not quite sure how to say this.”

“Oh god,” Merlin blurted. “You’re a serial killer, aren’t you.”

“What?” Arthur gave him a bewildered look. “Why on earth would you- No! I’m not a serial killer! That’s just- Why would you even-“

“Are you already married then?” Merlin demanded. “Is that it? That’s it, isn’t it? You’re married and I’m… oh my god, I’m your mistress!” That last part was perhaps a bit too loud, judging by the way some of the occupants of nearby tables turned to stare. Arthur gave them a strained smile.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he said. “Please, don’t mind us.” When everyone had returned to their own meals and conversations Arthur turned back to Merlin. “Merlin, I’m not a serial killer and I’m not married.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive.”

“Then what? What is it? You’re not-“ Merlin gasped. “Please tell me you don’t have cancer!”

“No! I’m a prince!”

Merlin was certain his brain had just short circuited. There was no way his boyfriend had really just told him that he’s- “A prince.”

“Yes.” Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping in his passcode and flipping through a few things before handing it to Merlin. “I’m Prince Arthur of Albion.” Merlin was too busy staring at the picture on the phone to ask what Albion was. It was of Arthur, probably taken in the last few years, dressed in princely regalia and posing regally for the camera, just a hint of a smile teasing at his lips. Merlin flipped to the next picture and saw Arthur standing in a grand ballroom dressed in a well fitted suit, drinking champagne and laughing at something a woman with brown hair pinned up in an elaborate style had just said.

“You’re serious,” Merlin finally said, tearing his eyes away from the phone. “You’re actually a prince. Of where did you say?”

“Albion,” Arthur said. “It’s a small sovereign state on the border between France and Germany, just below Luxembourg.”

Merlin was reeling. “Oh my god. Is Arthur Penn even your real name?” he demanded.

“Sort of,” Arthur rushed to say. “Arthur is my given name and Penn is a shortened form of my surname.”

“So your real name is…”

“Arthur Pendragon.”

“Prince of Albion.”

“Crown Prince of Albion, actually. I have a sister but she’s younger.”

“Oh.” Merlin downed the rest of the wine in his glass and immediately poured himself another. Screw not getting drunk. Maybe then this would actually start to make some sense . “So what does this mean for us? Why are you even telling me this now? Has this all just been a game to you and now that you’ve graduated it’s time to say ‘bye, thanks for the ride’ and head back to real life?”

“No!” Arthur protested. “No, no, no, no, no, that’s not it at all!” He sighed, running frustrated hands through his hair. “Merlin, I wanted to tell you sooner, I really did.”

“Oh really?” Merlin scoffed, taking a long drink of his wine.

“Yes! But I made this promise to my father. The only way he’d let me study abroad without any bodyguards or handlers or anything was if I promised to keep my identity secret.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re telling me now, of all times,” Merlin said. “Does it have to do with the phone call?”

“Yes,” Arthur admitted.

“Being recalled to Albion?”

“Sort of.” Arthur leaned his elbows on the table. He looked tired. “Look, Merlin, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. At first it was because of that stupid promise and then it was because I was afraid. I knew the longer I left it, the worse it would get, but… this last year with you has been the happiest of my life. Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

This night was just one great big roller coaster of fuckery, Merlin decided, absently swirling the rest of his wine around in his glass as he thought. “Well, I could forgive one of you, but I don’t know the other one do I? Who the fuck even is Prince Arthur?”

“The same as Arthur Penn. Just…”

“With a country attached.”

“I’m still me,” Arthur insisted gently. Merlin shook his head.

“How can I possible know that?” he asked. “You’ve been lying to me since the day we met. How do I know you haven’t lied about other things as well? Maybe I know Arthur Penn, but that’s not who you really are, is it? You’re Prince Arthur and I don’t know anything about Prince Arthur.”

“Then come home with me,” Arthur said quickly. “For Christmas.”

“Come home with you for Christmas,” Merlin repeated.

“Yes. Then you’ll be able to see for yourself that Arthur Penn and Prince Arthur are the same person.”

Was he actually going to consider this? Yes, Merlin realized, he was. Because at the end of the day, no matter what had been said here, he wasn’t ready to let this go just yet. He loved Arthur. If there was anyway that this could work out between them then Merlin wanted to find it.

“You promise you’re not married?” Merlin asked. “And that you’re not a serial killer?”

Arthur reached across the table and took his hands. “I swear on the royal crest.”

-

Uther was in a terrible mood when Morgana came down for breakfast.

“So I take it Arthur’s not coming home for Christmas again this year,” she said, slumping into a seat with a yawn. She dragged a scone onto her plate and stared slathering it with jam. Uther put down the morning paper he’d been reading.

“No, he will-“ Uther’s scowl morphed into a disapproving frown. “What on earth are you wearing Morgana?”

Morgana glanced down at herself. “Pajamas?”

“At the breakfast table?” The scandalized quality of the king’s tone made Morgana roll her eyes.

“You do realize most people wear pajamas at the breakfast table.”

“ _We_ are not most people.”

“You were saying something about Arthur,” Morgana said pointedly, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “About whether or not he’s coming home for Christmas?”

“He will arrive this afternoon,” Uther informed her. It was said grudgingly and Morgana could already hear the addendum that was coming. It must be a whopper. “However, he will not be returning alone. He is bringing…a boy.” Morgana almost choked on her scone.

“Arthur has a boyfriend?” she exclaimed. “That arse! He hasn’t said a word about it!”

“Morgana! A princess does not use such vulgar language,” Uther scolded. Morgana chose to ignore him.

“How long have they been together? Did Arthur say? It must be at least six months, if not longer, considering Arthur’s bringing him home for the holidays.”

Uther looked disgruntled. “Arthur said nothing about a boyfriend, simply that he was bringing someone home that happens to be a boy. I see no reason for you to jump to such a ridiculous conclusion.” He picked up the paper again, a clear sign that the conversation was over. Morgana hid her smirk behind her tea. Well, this Christmas was certainly shaping up to be an interesting one.

-

Will had laughed when Merlin had first told him about Arthur’s revelation over dinner at Avalon. Wiping tears from his eyes he’d said, “Alright, alright, you got me. That was a good one. Now what really happened?” Merlin had just stared at him until he could see it sinking in that he wasn’t joking.

“How do you even get yourself into these situations?” Will asked, grunting as he hauled Merlin’s suitcase out to the sidewalk in front of their flat.

“I think it’s exciting,” Freya said. There was a lighthearted skip to her step as she came out to join them. Merlin set his other bag beside his suitcase and shrugged.

“To be honest I’m kind of starting to have second thoughts,” he admitted.

Will snorted. “About which part? Continuing to date a guy who has apparently been lying to you for an entire year about being a prince? Or abandoning us for the holidays to go to a country you didn’t even know existed until last night?” Freya smacked him. “Hey!”

“Be nice, Will,” she said. “And Merlin, you have no reason to have second thoughts. Arthur loves you. That’s not going to change just because it turns out he happens to be a prince.”

“So you say,” Merlin muttered. He glanced over his shoulder to see his mum following them out, a cake tin in her hands, and groaned. “Mum-“

“Merlin Emrys, no child of mine will show up at another person’s home without a gift,” Hunith said sternly. “You are taking the cake and that’s final.” Merlin sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to argue. If nothing else, it would make a good snack for the trip. “Now, have you got everything you need?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“You have enough socks and pants?”

“Mum.”

“And you remembered your toothbrush?”

“ _Mum_. I have everything I need. I double checked. I even had Will double check, too.”

“He did,” Will said. “I even counted out all his pants for him, just to be sure he wouldn’t be wandering around in dirty-“ Freya thankfully elbowed Will before he could finish that sentence.

Merlin shook his head. “Mum I promise I have everything I need.”

“If you’re sure,” she said.

“Are _you_ sure you’ll be fine spending Christmas on your own?” Merlin asked.

Hunith smiled. “I think I can stand one year without you around to burn the first batch of Christmas cookies.”

“Well, if you weren’t asking me to do five million things at the same time maybe that would happen less often. Also, if you recall, I didn’t burn them last year.”

“What do you know, I guess there is some truth to that whole Christmas miracle thing,” Will said, earning another elbow in the stomach from Freya for it.

“Besides, she won’t be alone,” Freya said. “She’ll have me and Will.”

“Like he said, alone,” Hunith teased. Will was still spluttering indignantly when a taxi pulled up to the curb. Arthur stepped out and greeted Merlin with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning to greet Hunith.

“Sorry to ruin your Christmas plans like this,” Arthur said.

“It’s perfectly alright,” Hunith assured him. “There’s always next year, right?”

“Of course.” Arthur turned to Merlin. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just, one more thing.” While Arthur turned to load his luggage into the taxi Merlin hugged his mum tight.

“Call me when you get there, alright?” Hunith said.

“I will,” Merlin promised. “I’m honestly kind of terrified.”

Hunith framed his face in her hands. “Don’t be. Just be yourself. I’m proud of you Merlin, no matter what. Have a safe trip, alright?” Merlin nodded and made to get in the taxi where Arthur was waiting. “Oh wait!” Merlin found the cake tin shoved into his hands.

“Mum, do I really have to-” Merlin groaned.

“Yes, Merlin,” she said sternly. Then she ushered him into the taxi. He twisted around to watch through the rear window until the taxi turned the corner. Silence filled the air between them for several long, awkward minutes.

“What’s that?” Arthur asked.

Merlin blinked. “What’s what?” Arthur gestured at the cake tin. “Oh. Oh! Um, my mum made a yule log. She didn’t think it was appropriate for me to show up without a gift.”

“Oh, great,” Arthur said. “I’ve been thinking for ages that I should bring Morgana some of your mum’s baking. A yule log is perfect.”

“You think so? I mean I’m sure you have like a royal pastry chef or whatever-”

“Unless my father has hired a new cook in the last two years then trust me, his baking isn’t that good. Hunith’s is far superior.”

Merlin settled back in his seat, feeling a bit better about this whole thing. Maybe it wouldn’t be a total disaster.

-

“Wait, so run it by me again?” Merlin asked desperately. He’d spent the entire flight to France and the train ride to Albion’s tiny capital town of Camelot drilling Arthur about proper protocol and behavior, but he was so nervous that he kept forgetting everything he was told. Now they were in the back of a black SUV on their way to the palace and Merlin was desperately trying to nail down the protocol for addressing members of a royal family.

“You live in England, how do you not know how to address royalty?” Arthur countered, laughing like the arsehole he was.

“When would I ever have the chance to meet anyone from the royal family?” Merlin sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “I’m going to make a complete idiot of myself.”

“You won’t make an idiot of yourself,” Arthur said. He put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “At least not more than usual.”

“You are such a prat.”

“Isn’t that why you went out with me in the first place?”

“No, that was pity.”

“Of course, whatever you say.”

Merlin looked up at Arthur. “You really think things’ll go okay?”

“I think things’ll go great.” Arthur gave him a reassuring smile. “Look, we’ll just keep it simple for now, okay? The first time you meet my father, you address him as ‘your majesty’, alright?”

“Okay.”

“After that, just ‘sire’ is fine.”

“First meeting, your majesty. After that, ‘sire’. Okay. What about your sister?”

“Same deal, only you say ‘your royal highness’ instead of ‘your majesty’, and ‘ma’am’ instead of ‘sire’. Although, knowing Morgana, she’ll insist that her first name is fine.”

“So then do I address her by her first name?”

“Yes, that would be fine.”

Merlin groaned. “Now I’m confused again.”

“Just worry about addressing my father,” Arthur said. “Morgana honestly won’t care if you get something a bit wrong.”

“You’re sure?” Merlin asked. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure.”

Merlin turned to the window and absently watched the town flash by. He’d started feeling sick around the time they’d gotten on the train in Paris and the feeling only got worse as they drew ever closer to the palace. Castle. Citadel. Whatever it was. Merlin thought he’d heard Arthur call it all three at some point over the course of the day when he was going on about the history of Albion. He didn’t know. God, he needed some way to distract himself.

Distraction came a few moments later when the palace came into view. Merlin wasn’t aware his jaw had dropped open in shock until he turned to look at Arthur and saw the prince’s smirk. He snapped it shut.

“You act like you’ve never seen a palace before,” Arthur commented.

“Yeah, well that’s different. I’m never going to sleep or eat breakfast or have tea in Buckingham or Kensington or whatever am I?”

Arthur shrugged. “You never know.”

The SUV pulled to a stop right in front of the stairs leading up to the grand front doors.

“No guards with fuzzy hats?” Merlin couldn’t help but ask, eyeing the suited men standing at attention.

“Guess it never caught on. Come on.” Arthur slid out of the SUV and came around to Merlin’s side, opening the door for him.

The princess was the first to greet them. “Arthur!” she exclaimed, running down the stairs to throw her arms around her brother. Merlin was impressed, as the princess was wearing a pair of very tall heels.

“Hello, Morgana,” Arthur said, hugging his sister back. The moment they pulled apart the princess turned to Merlin.

“So you’re Arthur’s secret boyfriend,” she said. Arthur spluttered out a protest over the secret part, but was ignored. The princess held out a hand for Merlin to shake. “I’m Morgana, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed. And please, don’t worry about titles.”

“Except with the king?” Merlin guessed.

“Yes, except with the king,” Morgana agreed, rolling her eyes. “But really, I hope you aren’t worried. He’s just a great big old grumpy fusspot.”

“Morgana,” Arthur groaned.

“What? Should I have called him an arse instead?”

Rather than continue bickering, Arthur suggested, “How about we get out of this cold. Merlin?” Merlin took the offered hand nervously and let Arthur pull him up the stairs and into the castle. He was just barely able to keep his jaw from dropping open again.

“I’m pretty sure you could fit at least four of my entire flat in here,” he said.

“Yes, it is impressive, isn’t it.” The words hadn’t come from Arthur, nor from Morgana. Merlin cringed. That meant that they must’ve come from-

King Uther Pendragon, every bit as stone faced as he’d been in the photos Arthur had showed him, descended the main staircase with slow, methodical steps. ‘Big old grumpy fusspot’ did not do the frosty air emanating from him justice. Morgana could try to soften it any way she wanted, but at the end of the day Merlin was pretty sure there was every reason to be absolutely terrified of the king. 

And it was telling, really, the way Arthur looked like someone had suddenly strapped a rod to his back, he was standing so straight. Not to mention he was holding Merlin’s hand so tightly Merlin was starting to fear that it would break. He wriggled his fingers, trying to discreetly communicate their need for a bit of blood flow. Morgana was smirking at him. Unfortunately, Merlin’s preoccupation with his fingers and a smirking princess meant he missed the stiff greeting between Arthur and the king as well as whatever followed until Arthur loudly declared, “Merlin is not just an acquaintance, Father. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh. I see. Hm.” The king looked at Merlin with what could only be described as severe disapproval.

“It’s very nice to meet you, your majesty,” Merlin managed to say and almost curtsied, of all things. Then, because Merlin apparently had no control over his own mouth, had lost his mind completely, or a combination of both, he blurted, “I brought a yule log. My mum baked it. She owns a bakery. It’s chocolate. With icing. The cake is, not the bakery. But I left it in the car so, um…” He trailed off.

“A yule log,” the king repeated. “How…quaint.”

“Merlin’s mother is an excellent chef,” Arthur put in. His grip finally loosened a bit, but Merlin thought it might be too late to save his hand from permanent injury. Or his ego, for that matter, judging by the way the king was eyeing him.

“Gaius,” the king called.

“Your majesty.”

Merlin jumped and looked behind him to see an elderly man in a crisp suit standing a few feet away.

“Be sure that someone retrieves the yule log and puts it somewhere special,” the king ordered. Gaius bowed.

“Of course, your majesty.”

“Shall we repair to the parlor?” the king suggested. Although, by the way he simply walked off without waiting for anyone to reply, Merlin figured it wasn’t a suggestion so much as an order. Morgana rolled her eyes when the king’s back was turned, mouthing the overly formal words mockingly before following. Arthur held them back for a moment.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’d’ve been better if you hadn’t crushed my hand,” Merlin admitted. “Though not by much.”

“Sorry,” Arthur said. “About all of this. Dragging you here for Christmas, my father. And your hand, of course. Most sorry about your hand.”

Merlin frowned. “Why my hand?”

Arthur’s smirk was devious. “Because you might not be able to use it later for… _thing_.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Snorting, Merlin smacked his boyfriend hard on the shoulder. “Pervert.” 

The parlor was the fanciest room Merlin had ever been in, which really wasn’t saying much, considering he grew up at a little bakery shop in London. He was almost scared to set foot inside. The king was already sitting on a sofa, critically watching a member of the serving staff pour tea. Morgana was lounging in an armchair, leaving the love seat for Merlin and Arthur to take. The cushions were stiff and not at all comfortable and Merlin had to resist the urge to shift around in search of a better position. 

“I take it your journey wasn’t difficult,” the king said. 

“Not at all,” Arthur answered cautiously. “Quite easy, in fact.” Merlin thought he caught a flicker of something in the king’s eyes, but couldn’t be sure. 

“Is that so. Odd, then, that you have had so much difficulty coming back to visit.” 

Arthur grew tense and Morgana frowned. Suffocating silence descended over the room. Merlin got the sense he was missing something really important that would explain why Arthur and his father were staring at each other like one of them was about to throw down a gauntlet. Maybe he should say something? No, that would probably make things worse. Uncomfortable silence it was, then. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with Arthur,” the king said, turning to Merlin. “Alone. Gaius.” The elderly man reappeared. “Take Arthur’s guest to the Gold Room.” 

“Oh, the Gold Room,” Merlin said because he felt like he should say _something_ instead of just sitting there like an idiot. “That sounds nice.” 

“It is,” Arthur agreed. He was frowning at his father. “It’s also the furthest away from my room.” 

“It has an excellent view,” the king said. 

“Of the cemetery.” Arthur turned to Gaius. “Gaius, please take Merlin to the Cardinal Suite.” 

“It’s being renovated.” 

Another silent stare off between the king and the prince started. 

“The Gold Room sounds great,” Merlin said as he stood, disliking his newfound place as a point of contention between his boyfriend and his father. “The view of the cemetery sounds lovely.” 

“If you will follow me, sir,” Gaius said, turning and heading out of the parlor. Merlin gave Arthur a reassuring smile and followed. And, of course, tripped over a rug. “Whoops! Sorry, sorry.” The king’s eye narrowed. Arthur was sinking back into his seat, having leaped up on instinct to stop Merlin from hurting himself or breaking anything expensive. Morgana snorted. Merlin cleared his throat, but couldn’t think of anything to say, so he settled for hurrying out of the room. He followed Gaius for a few long moments in silence. 

“So, what exactly is your job?” Merlin asked as they climbed a staircase. 

“I am the head butler,” Gaius answered. “It means I’m in charge of all the rest of the household staff.” Merlin almost laughed at the use of the word household. It hardly seemed appropriate to apply a word like that to a palace. He didn’t even know where they were anymore. If someone had asked him to find the front door from where he was at this very moment, Merlin wouldn’t have had a clue which direction to go in to get there. 

“So do you have GPS for this place or something?” he asked desperately. 

“Afraid not.” There was amusement in Gaius’s tone. “But any member of the staff would be happy to help you find your way.” 

“Oh, that’s good.” A beat of silence passed before Merlin couldn’t hold back anymore and blurted, “The king is terrifying.” 

“You would not be the first to say as much,” Gaius assured him. 

“He’ll warm up to me eventually though, right?” 

Gaius glanced back and his expression was full of doubt that made Merlin’s heart sink a little. “Miracles do happen.” 

-

“What the hell were you thinking, Arthur?” the king demanded the moment Merlin was out of earshot. Arthur sighed and resisted the urge to rub his temples. It hadn’t even been an hour and he could already feel a headache coming on, courtesy of his father. This was exactly why he’d left Albion in the first place.

“I was thinking that if you were going to be so insistent on my returning for Christmas then it would be an excellent opportunity for you and Morgana to meet Merlin,” Arthur said.

“And what about the plan?”

“Not _the_ plan,” Arthur corrected. “ _Your_ plan, Father.”

“I find Merlin to be perfectly charming,” Morgana put in.

“Hush,” Uther snapped, clearly in no mood for her usual contrariness. He turned back to Arthur. “You were supposed to get your degree and come back to Albion to marry someone of respectable standing, not bring back some clumsy common boy!” He got up and stormed from the room before Arthur could protest that Merlin wasn’t really all _that_ clumsy and that he certainly wasn’t common.

“Well that could’ve gone better,” Arthur muttered.

“It also could’ve gone worse,” Morgana pointed out. Arthur gave her a wry look.

“How, exactly, could it have gone worse?”

“Well for starters, he could’ve broken something expensive when he tripped over the rug. Shall I go on? I could probably give you a list.”

“Please don’t.” Arthur scrubbed his hands over his face. “Do you really find Merlin charming?”

“I do,” Morgana said without hesitation. “He seems sweet. Plus, anyone who can put up with you for this long and not be driven mad must really be something special.” Arthur wished he had something to throw at her. For a moment he gave serious consideration to one of the teacups, but if his father didn’t murder him for breaking part of a priceless tea set then Gaius certainly would. He settled for flying two fingers at her. 

“Seriously though, Arthur,” Morgana continued, her smirk disappearing. “I can tell how much he means to you.”

“I love him,” Arthur said.

“So don’t let Uther take that away from you. There are plenty of things in this life that neither of us has a say in. Love isn’t one of them and never allow anyone to convince you otherwise.”

“I won’t,” Arthur promised. By no means would this be easy and Arthur would be naive to think otherwise. His father had certain ideas of the way things were supposed to be, very traditionalist ideas that Arthur and Morgana had been fighting against for years, though normally Morgana more so than him. He hated that Merlin was being thrown into the middle of this, especially as this would also be Merlin’s first Christmas away from London.

“What was Christmas like last year?” Arthur found himself asking. Morgana was quiet for a long time, gazing thoughtfully at the perfectly decorated Christmas tree in the corner. Fake, of course, so as not to get pine needles all over the place.

“Lonely,” she finally said.

-

Merlin was grateful when Arthur came to pick him up from the Gold Room to escort him to dinner that evening because he was positive that he would never have found his way there on his own.

“This isn’t too formal, is it?” Merlin asked, nervously smoothing a hand down over his shirt. “Or maybe not formal enough? Should I have worn a bowtie?”

“Do you see me wearing a bowtie?” Arthur asked and no, he certainly was not wearing a bowtie, just a very nice red one. “Just take a deep breath, Merlin. Dinner will go fine.”

Dinner most certainly did not go fine. For one, he felt isolated and alone with an entire side of the dining table all to himself. Arthur was sat across from him while the king and Morgana each sat at the heads of the table. For another, Merlin didn’t recognize any of the dishes and considering the way Arthur had rolled his eyes and how the king was closely observing him, Merlin assumed that was intentional. Luckily, Merlin had spent his entire life taste testing whatever his mum concocted in her kitchen experiments. He wouldn’t say this was the best dinner he’d ever had, but it was certainly better than some of the things his own mother had fed him. Taste testing really did give you resilient taste buds.

“So Merlin,” the king said. Merlin was so shocked at being addressed directly by the king that he fumbled the fork he’d been holding. It landed on the ground with an echoing clang.

“Sorry!” Merlin exclaimed. “Sorry! I’ll just-” He reached down for the fork and nearly banged heads with the servant that had already appeared to whisk it away. “Sorry!” When he sat back up, everyone in the room was staring at him, even the staff. Morgana looked amused, Arthur was trying to silently communicate that everything was fine, and Merlin couldn’t read the expression on the king’s face but he was positive it was some variation of disapproval. A new fork was quickly placed beside Merlin’s plate.

“So Merlin,” the king began again. “What do you do for a living?”

“My mum owns a bakery in London,” Merlin answered. “I work there.”

“How...quaint,” the king commented. “And do you have other aspirations?” Which was probably the polite way of saying that Merlin’s job was unacceptably common and he should aspire to be something more like a cardiac surgeon or a lawyer or, hell, a politician. When Merlin didn’t answer quickly enough, the king asked another question. “What was it you studied at university?”

“Business,” Merlin answered, trying not to sound too hesitant. He didn’t know what Uther thought of business majors.

“Ah, business. And what company are you hoping to work for?”

Oh no. There was no way the king was going to like his answer. Merlin cleared his throat to give himself an extra second to panic and glanced at Arthur, who looked like he desperately wanted to come to Merlin’s rescue, but knew that it would be futile. Even Morgana seemed to be considering how best to steer the conversation towards something that wouldn’t give her father more reason to judge Merlin and find him lacking.

“I don’t plan on working for any company,” Merlin said. “I studied business so I could help my mum run her bakery better. And we’re also hoping to expand.”

“Hm.” The king took a sip of his wine.

-

“I should’ve just made something up,” Merlin groaned when dinner was over and he and Arthur were slowly making their way back to the Gold Room. “I should’ve said I was a chef in a five star restaurant or something.”

“I don’t think it would’ve made a difference,” Arthur said. “Once my father’s made up his mind about something it’s hard to change it.”

“How did you turn out so normal?” Merlin asked. “I mean, not that-” He cut himself off before he could start rambling. “You know what I mean.” Arthur laughed.

“Do I?” He dodged Merlin’s punch to his shoulder at the last second. “Alright, alright, yes, I know what you mean!” The amusement faded from his face. “He wasn’t always like this. My mum’s death devastated him and I don’t think he’s ever really recovered.”

Merlin frowned. “He’s still got you and Morgana though.” Arthur made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. “And his kingdom.”

“Well, he can control his kingdom,” Arthur pointed out. “Morgana and I, not so much. He tries, I know he does. He just…” Arthur shrugged again. “Anyway. How about a tour?”

“Sure,” Merlin decided, “why not.”

The tour served as a nice way to get Merlin’s mind off that awkward dinner. There were more rooms than Merlin could count and each of them seemed to hold something interesting.

“Ah!” Arthur exclaimed. “This is my favorite room.” He pulled Merlin through another door into a place with racks of weapons lining the wall. “The armory.”

“You have an armory!” Merlin gaped around the room. “What do you even do with all of this stuff?”

“Slay dragons, of course,” Arthur said. “Here, how about a fencing lesson?”

“Of _course_ you fenced,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes as Arthur passed him a sword. “Oh, you’re serious? Are you sure about this?”

“It’ll be fine.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve seen me almost cut my finger off at least half a dozen times in the kitchen.”

“Must be closer to a dozen by now, actually.”

“Whatever. Just-”

“Relax, Merlin, I’m not going to make you do anything complicated. Just a few basic moves, alright?”

That didn’t sound so bad. “Yeah, alright.” He mimicked the stance Arthur was in, tucking his left arm behind his back, and carefully followed the moves he was shown.

“And when you put it all together,” Arthur said, “it looks something like this.” He sped up his movements, sword swishing through the air as he gracefully progressed from one move to the next, finishing with a flourish.

“Wow, not gonna lie,” Merlin said. “That was kinda hot.” Arthur smirked and tossed his hair a bit like the overly proud peacock he was. Then he gestured to Merlin.

“Your turn.”

“My turn?” Merlin stared. “Are you sure-”

“Come on, show me what you’ve got Emrys.”

Oh so it was a challenge now. Alright then. Merlin carefully slid into the stance. He was positive he was doing absolutely nothing right as he swung the sword around, but it was fun. Until he lost his grip on the sword. It was the stupidest thing he could’ve done. Merlin _knew_ he should’ve just let the sword fall, but instinct took over and Merlin brought his left hand forward in an attempt to catch the sword before it could clatter to the ground in a manner reminiscent of that stupid fork at dinner. Predictably, Merlin did not catch the sword. He did, however, slice his left hand open.

“Shit, Merlin are you okay?” Arthur appeared by his side in an instant, not even glancing at the possibly damaged sword. He took Merlin’s hand gently and examined the gash across his palm. “Come on, we need to get this taken care of.”

They found Gaius, who apparently had a lot of experience patching up fencing wounds.

“The way those two would go at it,” the old man said, clucking his tongue in disapproval as he wrapped a bandage around Merlin’s hand. From the sheepish expression on Arthur’s face Merlin assumed Gaius was referring to the prince and Morgana. It wouldn’t at all surprise him to learn that they had spent a great deal of time attempting to stab each other during fencing practice.

“Should we call the doctor?” Arthur asked.

“I shouldn’t think that will be necessary,” Gaius said. “It wasn’t a deep cut, thankfully. Just make sure to keep it clean and look out for signs of infection. And do try to rest it as much as possible. That will greatly aid the healing process.”

“I’ll remember that,” Merlin promised, not entirely sure that he would. Arthur would probably remember though. And pester Merlin endlessly about properly taking care of his wound. “Thank you, Gaius.”

“I’m here whenever you need me,” Gaius said. He packed up the medkit and left the room. Merlin looked down at his hand as something occurred to him.

“What are we going to say if your father asks?”

“That you were injured when you bravely rescued me from an evil dragon,” Arthur said. A smile crept over Merlin’s face.

“So you’re the damsel in distress and I’m the knight in shining armor?”

Arthur frowned. “Well-”

“Nope, you said it. So, continue the tour?”

“I think it would be best if you went back to your room and got some rest, actually,” Arthur said, coming over to him.

“But Gaius said it’s not that bad.”

“Yes, but I really think you would benefit from getting a bit of extra rest.” Arthur grabbed him by the waist and pulled Merlin flush against him. “Of course, you’ll need someone to look after you.”

Ah, so the night was taking that kind of turn was it? Merlin wasn’t opposed. “You know, maybe you’re right. A bit of extra rest wouldn’t hurt.”

“Excellent.” Then, because he was a prat of epic proportions, Arthur swept Merlin up in his arms and started carrying him towards the Gold Room.

“My hand is injured, not my legs,” Merlin felt the need to point out.

“I know.”

“Or is this about you proving that you’re not a damsel?”

“Actually, after giving it some thought, I wouldn’t mind being the damsel.”

“Oh really.”

“Yeah. Means I don’t have to do any of the work.”

Merlin snorted. “Prat.”

There was a fire going when they got to the room and Merlin noticed that the bed had been turned down.

“This is definitely not how I left it,” Merlin observed as Arthur sat in the armchair by the fireplace, settling Merlin in his lap.

“This would all be courtesy of Daegal,” Arthur said.

“Daegal?”

“Your manservant for the duration of your stay.”

Merlin almost fell out of Arthur’s lap. “My what?!”

“Manservant,” Arthur repeated. “Well, of sorts. He’s responsible for keeping the room in order and tending to your needs.”

“Okay. Do I...have to keep him? I mean have a manservant? I’d be fine on my own.”

“Yes, you have to have one.”

Merlin crossed his arms and pouted, drawing a laugh out of Arthur. “You shouldn’t laugh, you know,” he said. “Not at an injured person.”

“Ah, yes, your dragon slaying injury.” Arthur gently held Merlin’s hand up for inspection. “How does it feel?”

“Fine.” Merlin shrugged.

“Should I kiss it better? Or do you think that would be considered unsanitary?”

“You could kiss me somewhere else instead.”

“Hm, I like the sound of that.” He leaned up and pressed his lips lightly to Merlin’s, waiting until Merlin returned it before deepening the kiss. For the first time since this whole fiasco had started in London Merlin found the tension draining out of him. This was familiar. Kissing Arthur, touching Arthur. Almost elbowing Arthur in the face when Merlin was taking his shirt off.

“I swear, you are a constant danger to yourself and those around you,” Arthur said, his words tempered by the amusement in his voice. Merlin pinched his nipple in retaliation, then had to scramble to escape when Arthur started tickling him. They fell onto the carpet.

“Oh my god!” Merlin gasped around his giggles. “Stop! Seriously!” He managed to grab Arthur’s wrists and draw in a few deep breaths. “I thought you were supposed to be tending to me and my injured hand, not torturing me.”

“Ah yes, of course,” Arthur said, smiling. “I deeply apologize. Allow me to make it up to you.” ‘Making it up to him’ ended up translating to Arthur stripping Merlin out of the rest of his clothes so he could trail soft, adoring kisses down Merlin’s bare skin, ending with a slow, thorough blow job that robbed Merlin of his ability to make sense of the world.

“Fuck,” Merlin breathed, feeling himself getting close. “Fuck. Arthur.” It took him a moment to realize that the warm heat of Arthur’s mouth was gone. He opened his eyes just in time for Arthur to kneel back down between his legs. At some point, Arthur’s trousers and pants had disappeared. The pop of a cap drew Merlin’s attention to the tube of lube in Arthur’s hand. Arthur gave it a little wiggle and raised his eyebrows in silent question.

“God yes,” Merlin said immediately. Smirking, Arthur coated his fingers in the lube and pressed them inside Merlin. He took his sweet time with this, too. Merlin wanted to punch him and kiss him all at once, caught between the amazing, slow-burning pleasure and just wanting to come already.

“Please,” Merlin begged, shaking with arousal.

“What was that?” Arthur asked with mock innocence. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Fuck me,” Merlin demanded, frustrated. And then the next bit just sort of slipped out. “Please, sire.” They both froze, staring at each other in mutual shock. Merlin was just opening his mouth to apologize (for what, exactly, he wasn’t entirely sure, he just felt like he should apologize) when Arthur said, “Say it again.” He sounded breathless now. “Come on,” Arthur encouraged, dragging his fingers across Merlin’s prostate, making Merlin gasp and arch off the rug a little. “Say it again.”

“Fuck me,” Merlin whispered. At Arthur’s nod, he added, “Please, sire.” Arthur removed his fingers immediately and popped open the lube again, swearing softly to himself. He was sloppy about getting it on his cock and Merlin couldn’t help but smirk. _Looks like we’ve discovered a new kink_ , he thought. He didn’t get a chance to gloat though, which was fine because finally having Arthur’s cock sliding inside him was much more important at that moment.

Merlin waited until Arthur had found a steady rhythm before letting, “My lord,” slip out alongside a moan. Arthur’s hips stuttered and he drew in a ragged breath. Merlin did it again, earning a strangled sound this time, following by a hand clumsily wrapping around his cock. A few more royal terms of address probably slipped out, but Merlin wasn’t sure. He was too distracted by his building orgasm. In an impressive feat of timing, Merlin felt his orgasm crash through him at the same time that Arthur went still and rigid, hiding his moan in Merlin’s neck. Arthur was sure to roll off him before collapsing on the rug, chest heaving with every breath. Merlin felt great, especially with the heat of the fire on one side and the warmth of Arthur’s body on the other. He could almost fall asleep here.

“Carry me to bed,” Arthur mumbled.

“No,” Merlin said. “Your bed’s on the other side of the castle.”

“I meant this bed.” Arthur waved his arm at the one in Merlin’s room.

“Oh. Still no.”

“Why not?”

“I’m injured, remember?” Merlin waved his left hand in the air for emphasis. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be taking care of me. If anyone is getting carried to bed it should be me.” Arthur grumbled something inaudible so Merlin smirked and tacked on an innocent, “Please, sire?” Arthur groaned.

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you.”

“Nope.”

-

Merlin opened his eyes just in time to see a bright flash through a gap in the curtains, like a camera going off. But who would be outside the window taking pictures when it was still the middle of the night? The answer came a moment later in the form of booming thunder: no one was taking pictures. There was a thunderstorm outside. For a few minutes Merlin just lay there, watching the sliver of storm visible through the curtains. Arthur was still there, wrapped around Merlin like a great big octopus with blond hair. That snored. Eventually though, Merlin became aware that his throat was dry and sandpapery. Carefully extricating himself from Arthur, Merlin wrapped himself in a robe, found some slippers, and went in search of the kitchen.

It proved elusive. Merlin wandered the halls, trailing from room to room, descended a staircase, tripped on a rug that was probably priceless, and found himself in a room with suits of armor lining the walls. He glanced behind him and realized that he had no idea how to even get back to his room, much less find the kitchen.

“Great,” Merlin muttered. He eyed one of the suits of armor. “I don’t suppose you know where the kitchen is, do you? Or the way back to my room?” The suit, predictably, remained still and silent. “Didn’t think so.” Merlin leaned in closer, noticing an elaborate pattern along the edge of the armor. Had someone actually worn this into battle? Or was it just ornamental? Merlin couldn’t imagine someone wearing something this nice on a battlefield. He knocked on the chestplate.

“What are you doing.”

Gasping, Merlin whirled around to find the king standing on the other side of the room. Unfortunately, because Merlin’s luck was just that horrible, his feet got tangled in each other for a moment and he knocked back into the suit of armor, sending it careening sideways. It rammed into another suit of armor, which fell over and rammed into yet another suit of armor, creating what would’ve been an impressive domino effect, had Merlin not been too petrified with horror to notice. The crashing clangs of the suits of armor echoed long after they had stilled.

“Um, I was looking for the kitchen?” Merlin finally said. Hurried footsteps approached the room and then Gaius was standing in the doorway, looking around with alarm.

“Your majesty? Is everything alright?”

“Everything is...fine,” the king said, the tone of his voice indicating that things were most certainly not fine. “Gaius, please escort Mr. Emrys to the kitchens before he has a chance to cause anymore injury to palace property.”

“Of course, sire,” Gaius said. He eyed the destruction before beckoning for Merlin to follow him. Merlin went gladly. He didn’t think it was possible to feel more embarrassed than he did right now.

-

The next time Merlin woke up it was because his phone was buzzing with an incoming call. The storm from the previous night was gone, leaving just soft morning sunlight. Arthur was gone as well, though he’d left a note saying he’d just returned to his own room to clean up and get ready for the day. Merlin searched through the blankets until he managed to find his phone, answering with a yawn wrapped around his tired, “Hello?”

“So do they have guards with fuzzy hats?”

Still half asleep it took Merlin a bit to actually process the question and a bit longer to recognize the voice. “No, they don’t have guards with fuzzy hats, Will,” he said. “Also, do you know what time it is?”

“Do you? It’s just past nine. Also, really? No guards with fuzzy hats? What is even the point of that place?” Merlin rolled his eyes and pulled his phone away from his ear long enough to confirm that it was indeed a few minutes past nine.

“England has guards with fuzzy hats,” Merlin said. “Go bother them.”

“Killjoy. So what’s it like there?”

Merlin leaned back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling and remembering everything that had happened so far since his arrival, from tripping over the carpet on the way out of the parlor to knocking over a bunch of suits of armor in the middle of the night because he couldn’t find the kitchen. “It’s...nice.”

Will snorted. “It’s _nice_.”

“Shut up. Arthur’s father is terrifying okay? I don’t think he even knows how to smile. In fact, the king smiling is probably a sign that he’s lost his mind. The princess seems nice though.”

“Princess, huh? Is she hot?”

“Will, no.”

“I’m just asking-”

“ _No_.”

“Alright, alright, no need to get your panties all in a twist, mate. So do they like live in a legit castle?”

Merlin smiled as he glanced around the room. “Oh yeah. Probably not as impressive as Buckingham or any of those places, but there’s still over a hundred rooms. And an armory. Will, there’s an armory!”

“No shit! A real armory? With weapons and everything?”

“Yes!”

Will, who had always been a sucker for all things related to knights, including armories with swords and suits of armor, dissolved into a bit of a gibbering mess as Merlin described it.

“This is so not fair,” Will decided. “You don’t deserve this. I should be there, not you!”

A knock on the door interrupted the teasing remark Merlin had been about to make. “I gotta go. I think my...manservant is at the door.”

“You have a manservant!” Will exclaimed. “You definitely don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t deserve to be here,” Merlin interrupted. “But I am and you’re not, so tough luck and I’ll talk to you later, okay? Okay. Bye.” He hung up just as the door opened and a nervous young man came into the room bearing a tray.

“Your morning tea, sir,” the young man said, setting it on the table near the fire.

“Oh, thank you,” Merlin said. “Um, Daegal, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Daegal said. His eyes took in the mess that had exploded out of Merlin’s suitcases sometime between last night and this morning. He started picking it up. Horrified, Merlin leaped out of bed and started trying to shove all his mess back into his luggage.

“You don’t have to do that,” Merlin said. “I’m sorry, I’m such a messy traveler.”

“It’s my job, sir,” Daegal reminded him, though he did look relieved to have a bit of help getting the place back in order.

“You don’t have to call me sir. Just Merlin is fine.”

Daegal’s nervous smile turned more genuine. “Alright...Merlin.”

-

Arthur regretted not waiting for Merlin to wake up the moment he stepped into the breakfast room. Predictably, Morgana had yet to arrive, leaving him stuck with just Uther, who sat straight backed and imposing at the head of the table where he was reading the morning paper. Arthur tried to make as little noise as possible as he went to his seat, like if he didn’t draw attention to himself then his father wouldn’t notice him. It was as ridiculous as an ostrich sticking its head in the ground under the mistaken impression that would keep its enemies from seeing it and Arthur knew that, but he did it anyway. Thankfully, Morgana was only a few moments behind him. Unlike Arthur, she hadn’t bothered with dressing. She didn’t even appear to have done her makeup, something for which Arthur gave her a raised eyebrow. She flew two fingers at him.

With both of his children at the table, Uther set the paper aside and began to eat. Arthur opened his mouth to point out that Merlin wasn’t there yet and immediately decided that would be a bad idea. And anyway, it turned out he didn’t need to mention it himself. Uther was perfectly aware of who was and was not at the breakfast table.

“Will Merlin not be joining us for breakfast?” the king asked pointedly.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Arthur lied smoothly. With any luck, Daegal would show Merlin to the breakfast room. If not, they may have to mount a rescue mission.

“Maybe he’s taking advantage of the holidays to sleep in,” Morgana said. “I know I sure as hell would.”

“This _is_ sleeping in,” Uther said. Morgana rolled her eyes.

“Sleeping in does not include a scheduled breakfast at nine in the morning. It includes waking up whenever you want and crawling out of bed at least an hour after that.”

Uther scowled and chose not to pursue that conversation, much to Arthur’s disappointment. The finer points of sleeping in seemed like a much safer topic of discussion than anything his father likely wanted to talk about.

“So, Arthur,” the king began, “have you given anymore thought to our conversation yesterday?”

“No,” Arthur answered shortly, stabbing his fork into his eggs. “And I would appreciate it if you would refrain from bringing it up again. At least during the holiday season.”

Of course it wasn’t that easy. “I am concerned for your future,” Uther said. “There are a number of fine ladies for you to choose from among the nobility.”

“And I don’t like any of them in that way.”

“What about Mithian?”

Arthur sighed. “Mithian is just a friend,” he said firmly.

“You and Mithian would make an excellent match,” Uther insisted. “You have so much in common.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have any feelings for her,” Arthur said.

“Mithian’s engaged anyway,” Morgana spoke up. 

“Vivian, then,” Uther said, unwilling to give up. “Lady Vivian would make an excellent queen.”

“Perhaps, but she would also make a terrible wife,” Arthur said.

“You don’t know that.” Uther waved a dismissive hand. 

“No, Father, I really do.” It wasn’t that Vivian was a terrible harpy or anything like that. In fact, Arthur quite enjoyed standing back and watching her steamroll over other members of the peerage who thought that just because her father was overprotective, Vivian was no more than a spoiled, sheltered brat. But Arthur had never really been able to get on very well with Vivian. She was vain and her interest in marrying him extended only to having the royal funds at her disposal. There were worse people out there to marry (like Sophia Tir Mor, whom Arthur tried his hardest to forget existed), but that didn’t change the fact that Arthur had zero interest in marrying Vivian.

“You haven’t seen her in nearly two years. Vivian has much matured since then.” Morgana choked on her tea, earning a disapproving frown from the king. “You should give her another chance before dismissing her entirely.”

“I love Merlin,” Arthur declared. “I’m happy with him, Father.”

The king nearly scowled. “Arthur, he is a commoner, not someone suited to be the consort of a future king. You know this…thing between the two of you can never work out.” Before Arthur could reply they heard laughter coming from the hallway. Merlin appeared side by side with Daegal. The two of them were chatting away quite happily until Merlin spotted him. Arthur rose from his chair and they exchanged good mornings and a hug. Then Merlin noticed the king’s steely eyes staring at him and the fact that both Arthur and his father were wearing suits.

“Should I change?” Merlin asked, crossing his arms as if that would cover the fact that he was wearing jeans and a well loved jumper.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Morgana said. After all, she was still in plaid pajama pants and an Albion University sweatshirt, her hair in a bun to hide what a mess it was before she’d had a chance to tame it into its usual wavy perfection. She was sitting criss cross as well. Arthur honestly couldn’t tell if the lack of reprimand from their father was because he was too busy trying to convince Arthur to marry a woman from the peerage or because this had been going on for long enough that he had given up.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s fine, Merlin,” Arthur said, guiding his boyfriend over to a seat. “To be honest, I can’t wait to be out of this monkey suit. Besides, it’s not as if anyone is here to see you. It’s just the family.” Uther grumbled something into his tea that was likely a remark on how Merlin wasn’t family that Arthur chose to ignore, mostly because it was too early to start an argument that day. He wanted to save his energy for whatever would inevitably crop up later. Like when he shared his plan five minutes later to take Merlin into town and show him what Camelot was like.

“The ball is in two days and we have a dinner tonight,” Uther protested. “Your schedule is full.”

“Surely I can have one afternoon to show Merlin around,” Arthur said. “We’ll be back in plenty of time to embarrass you in front of your guests at dinner.”

Uther did scowl this time, but he offered no further argument so Arthur counted it as a win.

“Would you like to join us, your majesty?” Merlin asked. It was a sweet gesture, but Arthur wasn’t surprised when Uther’s response was to drop his napkin onto his plate and leave the room. Merlin slumped back in his seat. “Wow. He honestly hates me.”

“Hate is a strong word,” Arthur said.

“Oh please,” Morgana cut in. “He was literally just trying to convince you to marry Vivian.”

“Vivian?” Merlin voiced, confusion evident in his tone.

“A countess,” Arthur explained.

“Oh.” Merlin frowned down at his plate. “So…an infinitely better significant other for you than me.”

“Merlin, the only thing about me that interests Vivian is the royal fortune and the chance to call herself Queen Vivian,” Arthur said. He tilted Merlin’s chin up to look him in the eye. “I promise you I have no interest in marrying her. I love you and only you.” Merlin smiled.

“Yeah, alright.” He took a deep breath, recovering himself. Then he turned to Morgana. “What about you? Do you want to come into town with us?”

“And spend the afternoon as a third wheel to your sickeningly sweet relationship? Maybe some other time.” Morgana’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Like when I take you shopping for the Christmas Ball!”

“Shopping?” Merlin paled. “Why would I need to go-“

“Morgana, you are not taking him shopping,” Arthur said sternly. His sister merely raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Says you.”

Arthur gave into childishness and threw a biscuit at her.

-

They left for town not long after breakfast, as soon as Arthur had an opportunity to change into something more comfortable.

“Not gonna lie, I’m excited to get away from here for a few hours,” Merlin admitted.

“I’m definitely with you there.” Arthur raised a hand to one of the men waiting by the car they were taking into town. “I’ll drive, Leon!” Leon, a tall man with curly red hair, raised an eyebrow, but tossed Arthur the keys as Merlin slid into the passenger seat. The drive into town was short and relaxing. When they parked on an out of the way street Leon and Percival, as the other man had been introduced, went ahead and got out.

“So what are they actually for?” Merlin asked, gesturing towards the two men.

“To protect me,” Arthur said. He reached over and began rummaging around in the glove box.

“From what?”

Arthur paused to give Merlin a wry smile. “People who don’t like my father.”

“Oh, I get it now. Are they gonna follow us everywhere?

“Yep.”

“Restaurants?”

“Yep.”

“Bathroom?”

“Me, yes. You, no.”

“What if we go to the bathroom at the same time?”

“Then yes.”

Arthur pulled something out of the glove box and Merlin saw it was a cap and a pair of sunglasses.

“Does that actually work?” Merlin asked around a laugh, watching Arthur carefully put the items in place on his head to ensure maximum coverage.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be swamped by the public when I’m just trying to give my boyfriend a little tour of Camelot,” Arthur shot back.

Merlin’s laugh faded away. “We won’t really be swamped, will we?”

“It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” Merlin glanced out the window. “Should I put a cap and glasses on as well?”

“That would just draw attention,” Arthur said. Merlin gave him a critical once over. 

“And _that_ won’t?”

“Shut up Merlin.”

Camelot was lovely. Albion as a whole wasn’t big enough for the sorts of large bustling cities found in most countries, not unless the entire country wanted to become one big city, but that didn’t mean Camelot was lacking. As they walked, Arthur went on about the history behind many of the buildings and Merlin could see exactly why he’d minored in it.

“You could’ve majored in history,” Merlin commented when Arthur stopped to take a drink. His voice was starting to go hoarse from all the talking.

“Could’ve done,” Arthur agreed. “Almost did, actually. But I wanted something that would help me rule one day so economics made more sense.” Merlin nodded. That made sense. 

“We should buy a tree,” Merlin declared.

“We have tons of trees already, or didn’t you notice,” Arthur said.

“Yes, but those are all fake trees that have been professionally decorated to match the decor and be all appropriate and stuff. We should buy a real tree and decorate it with real ornaments.”

“I don’t know that we have any ornaments.”

“Then we should buy some of those as well.”

Arthur thought it over. “Alright. Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

This close to Christmas the selection of trees in town wasn’t great and Leon had vetoed a trip into the more rural areas of the small country. There was an actual market square packed with people doing last minute holiday shopping and that was where they found a vendor selling the last of his trees.

“Bulk of my money goes to the business, of course,” the vendor said. “Gotta be able to feed my family and all that. But I usually make a good amount off these last minute sells and I donate that to the local children’s home. I owe that place a lot you know. Any trees I don’t sell go to them as well so they can brighten up the place.”

“That’s lovely,” Merlin said. He’d spent some time in foster care when he was younger, during a year where his mum hadn’t been able to make ends meet well enough to provide for him. He knew how hard it could be to be in that situation. At least he’d been able to go back to his mum when she’d gotten the bakery back on track. The kids at the children’s home likely didn’t have anyone but each other and their caretakers.

“What do you think of this one?” Arthur asked, drawing Merlin out of his thoughts. He was pointing at a small tree, the sort Merlin and Will had put on their coffee table since getting their flat, in lieu of a bigger tree. That one was always at his mum’s house, where there was a spacious living room.

“I like it,” Merlin said. He gave the rest of the trees a speculative.

Arthur nudged him. “What are you thinking?”

“What if...what if we bought all the trees,” Merlin suggested. “And donated them to the children’s home.”

“They’ll already get the trees,” Arthur said.

“Yes, but this way they can have the trees and the money.”

Arthur turned to the vendor. “Can we do that?”

“You most certainly can!” the vendor declared, looking delighted. “Your kindness really does you credit, your royal highness.” Heads immediately swiveled in their direction. Sighing, Arthur took off the sunglasses.

“Really wasn’t fooling anyone, was I,” he said wryly.

“It’s Prince Arthur!” someone exclaimed. The next thing Merlin knew he was being jostled by a crowd of people all flocking towards Arthur. Leon and Percival rushed past him, trying to fulfill their duty as bodyguards to the crown prince. At last, Merlin managed to untangle himself from the mess and took several steps back, just staring in amazement at the people surrounding his boyfriend. They all looked so excited. And Merlin…

Merlin couldn’t help feeling like a complete outsider.

-

Afternoon began to stretch into evening before Leon reminded them that there was a dinner they had to be back in time for. Merlin didn’t want to go back. He would be perfectly happy to spend the rest of the holidays wandering around Camelot and discovering all its secrets. Arthur’s obvious love for the town just made it all the better. Maybe they would be able to come back tomorrow. It had been a wonderful day, reminiscent of the days Arthur and Merlin would spent exploring London together, which just made it all the more jarring when their good mood was dampened by the king almost the moment they set foot inside the palace.

“Where have you been?” the king demanded, looking cross. Arthur and Merlin paused halfway up the stairs. “And what is that?” The king’s gaze zeroed in on the tree in Arthur’s hand.

“It’s a tree,” Arthur said. “We’re going to decorate it-”

“The guests will be arriving soon for dinner,” the king interrupted. “You were supposed to be back much earlier.”

“Sorry.” Arthur’s shrug was unapologetic. “We lost track of time.”

“Well go get ready. Now.”

“Yeah, alright, I just have to-”

“Gaius, put that somewhere special.” The king didn’t bother waiting around to see if his order would be followed, just swept back off to wherever he’d been lurking. Gaius side eyed the king, but came forward to take the tree from Arthur.

“So, where do you suppose this somewhere special is?” Merlin asked as they continued up the stairs.

“Compost,” Arthur answered.

“Great. First my mum’s yule log and now the tree.” Merlin frowned and looked at Arthur. “You don’t think I’m going to end up somewhere special, do you?”

“Everything will be fine,” Arthur said.

“Except that I’m pretty sure your father hates me,” Merlin pointed out. “He does, doesn’t he? That’s not just me? Because-”

“Merlin, can we not talk about my father?” Arthur cut him off, giving him a meaningful look. Merlin took a deep breath.

“Right. Sorry. So-”

“Arthur!” The exclamation startled them both. It came from an excited blond woman who rounded the corner with a delighted smile on her face as she rushed over to hug Arthur.

“Elena,” Arthur said, sounding shocked. He hugged the woman back more on instinct than anything else. “I didn’t realize you would be here so soon.”

“I didn’t either,” Elena said as she stepped back. “I assumed I was just coming out for the ball, but then the king invited me to dinner tonight and it’s been so long since we last saw each other I just couldn’t refuse. How have you been?”

“I’ve been…good.” Arthur still hadn’t seemed to recover from his surprise. He reached back blindly until he caught Merlin’s arm and pulled him forward. “Elena, I’d like to introduce you to Merlin. Merlin, this is Elena. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“Practically since we were born, actually,” Elena said. She smiled at Merlin and held out her hand. She had a very firm grip. “So _you’re_ Merlin. Morgana’s been telling me all about you.”

“Oh?” Merlin couldn’t help feeling alarmed at that. Morgana had been nothing but pleasant to him so far, but he’d seen the way she and Arthur could go at it.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Elena rushed to reassure him. “It was all good, I promise. Morgana adores you.”

“Oh well, that’s...good to hear.”

“We should go get ready for dinner,” Arthur said.

“Oh, yes, of course. So I’ll see you in a bit then.” Elena whirled around, nearly tripping over her own feet. An awkward silence descended over the hallway in her absence.

“So,” Merlin broke it. “She seems...nice.”

“She is.” Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Merlin, Elena’s father, Lord Godwin, is a very close friend of my father’s. They sort of got it into their heads some time ago that Elena and I would grow up and get married. I’ve told my father many times that I have no romantic feelings for Elena. She’s just a friend. But I think my father is still under the impression that I might change my mind.”

“Oh.” Merlin glanced at one of the tapestries, not really sure what to say to that. Arthur turned his head back towards him.

“I love you,” Arthur said. He pecked Merlin lightly on the lips. “Nothing will ever change that. Okay?”

Merlin smiled. “Okay.”

“Now, shall I show you back to your room?”

“Yes please. Swear to god, this place needs GPS.”

-

It took all of thirty seconds after Arthur’s departure for Merlin to go spiraling down into a pit of self doubt. He told himself over and over again that there was absolutely no reason to be worried about Elena. Arthur had just explicitly told him that nothing would ever happen between them, no matter what their fathers wanted. It was hard not to doubt though when he was so aware of the fact that his boyfriend’s father hated him.

“Is something wrong?” Daegal spoke up. He’d been standing off to the side, watching with concern as Merlin paced, paused to pick up an item of clothing, shook his head, and started pacing again.

“This is going to sound absolutely insane,” Merlin said, “but I don’t feel like I have anything to wear.

“But…” Daegal gestured at the array of trousers and shirts and ties spread out on the bed. Merlin had only managed to accrue as many as he had thanks to Arthur, who seemed to be quite fond of buying Merlin clothes.

“I told you it was going to sound insane,” Merlin said. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “It’s just...I met the woman the king apparently wants Arthur to marry.”

“Ah.” Understanding entered Daegal’s expression. “Elena. The Duke’s daughter.”

“The Duke’s daughter,” Merlin repeated. “So one day she’s going to be…”

“A duchess,” Daegal said. “I don’t think you need to worry though. If the prince were interested in Elena in that way then I think something would’ve happened by now, right?”

“I suppose,” Merlin admitted. He looked at his clothes again. “I still don’t know what to wear.” Daegal ran a critical eye over the available options before stepping forward and selecting an outfit.

“Blue looks good on you,” Daegal said, laying the blue tie out alongside the grey suit and white shirt he’d chosen. A knock on the door interrupted Merlin before he could express his eternal gratitude to Daegal.

“Merlin? You ready?” Arthur called.

“Almost!” Merlin called back. He turned to Daegal. “Mind giving me a hand?”

-

The rest of the guests were already seated by the time Merlin and Arthur arrived in the dining room, the laughter they’d heard filtering out through the open doors dying down at their entrance.

“Good evening,” Arthur greeted with a nod. The smile Merlin had plastered on his face turned nervous when he noted that the only two empty seats were far apart from each other. An intentional decision, if the way Morgana was eyeing the king with distaste was any indication.

“Ah, Arthur, how good of you to finally join us,” the king said. His eyes slid to Merlin. “Allow me to make the introductions.” He gestured towards the table. “The Baron and Baroness of Newbury. You already know, Elena, the future duchess, of course. And the Count and Countess of Exeter, the Count and Countess of Surrey, and the Count and Countess of Devon.”

“I’ve lost count,” Merlin whispered to Arthur.

“Just nod and smile,” Arthur advised. “That’s what I do.”

“And Merlin Emrys from…” The king gestured vaguely in Merlin’s direction.

“London,” Merlin supplied. “Hi, it’s very nice to meet you.” His face was starting to hurt from all this smiling.

“Arthur,” the king went on, “I would like you to sit next to Elena, please. And Merlin, I would like you to sit beside the Baroness.” Morgana rolled her eyes where she was seated to the king’s left. The king himself had a very self satisfied expression on his face that kind of made Merlin want to punch him. However, as that was hardly appropriate dinner etiquette, Merlin settled for casting a frightened glance at Arthur and going to take the seat at the opposite end of the table, between the Baroness of Newbury and the Countess of…something. Oh yeah, this was gonna go _great_. At least the Baroness, a lovely woman with curly dark hair, was decent enough to give him an encouraging smile. She could be faking it though. Merlin really had no idea when it came to nobles. And the whole situation was just made worse by how absolutely delighted Elena looked to have Arthur sitting beside her.

“So, Elena,” Arthur said, taking his seat. “How long will you be staying?”

“Oh, the king invited me to stay through the holidays,” Elena answered happily. “Or beyond, if need be.”

“The Christmas Ball wouldn’t be the same without Elena,” the king said kindly, bestowing a smile on the woman that almost looked warm. Merlin ignored the spark of jealousy. Arthur loved him, he’d said so many times before. Elena was just a friend.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Elena said, blushing a bit. “Some of my fondest holidays have been spent here in Camelot with Morgana and Arthur.” She turned back to Arthur. “Last Christmas really wasn’t the same without you there.”

“He’s going to make it up this Christmas,” the king promised her.

“Apparently, I already am,” Arthur said, somehow managing to maintain a pleased demeanor while giving his father a look.

“Let’s eat!” the king declared instead of answering. Everyone immediately started unfolding their napkins and setting them in their lap. Merlin was pleased that was one part of table etiquette that was universal across classes, at least when it came to his household. But then he looked down and saw how many forks and spoons there were and started panicking. If he were sitting next to Arthur, then the prince could’ve subtly showed him which utensil to pick up. He tried glancing at the Baroness, but she had already started eating her salad and Merlin couldn’t tell which fork she’d picked up. Wasn’t there some rule of thumb for this? Something like going from the outside in? But what did you do when there was also a set of silverware above your plate? Did you use those ones first? Merlin glanced up and saw the king smirking at him and Arthur throwing worried glances in his direction, even as a Count tried to engage his attention. Morgana looked seconds away from throwing protocol out the window and coming over to show him which fork to use.

“Third fork to the left,” Daegal murmured, leaning down to fill Merlin’s glass with water. Merlin picked up the designated fork.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Guinevere,” the king boomed across the table, “told me the other day that she’s publishing a book.” The Baroness smiled and glanced down, looking torn between being pleased that the king had remembered that little detail and horrified that he’d chosen to make it the topic of conversation at the table.

“Not a tell all I hope,” Elena teased. The rest of the guests laughed politely.

“Actually, it’s a children’s book,” the Baroness said.

“Congratulations,” Arthur said.

And then Merlin attempted to join the conversation. “Yeah, that’s wonderful. Were your children the inspiration for the book?” Immediately, an awkward silence fell over the table, punctuated by a few small, horrified gasps. Oh god. That couldn’t be good.

“Unfortunately, not,” the Baron said, reaching over to place a hand over his wife’s.

“Having children was not in the cards for us,” the Baroness explained and Merlin immediately felt like a giant arsehole. Clearly, it was a topic everyone knew not to discuss at the dinner table. Everyone except him, obviously.

“I’m so sorry,” Merlin whispered. The Baroness flashed him a weak smile and shook her head, turning back to her salad. Great. They weren’t even to the main course and he’d already offended a Baroness. He should probably just not talk for the rest of the dinner.

“So Merlin, what do you do for a living?” Elena asked. The look on her face said she was trying to move the conversation away from the awkward turn it had taken by latching onto the first subject that came to mind. Merlin wished that subject hadn’t involved him.

“Oh, Merlin works in his mother’s bakery,” the king said before Merlin even had a chance to open his mouth. Morgana’s expression was vicious and Merlin was concerned she may kick her father under the table.

“Yes, that’s actually how Arthur and I ended up going out,” Merlin said, desperate to have at least some form of control over the flow of conversation. Arthur smiled at him encouragingly. “He started coming by because he’d fallen in love with my mum’s brownies and…” He shrugged.

“Ended up falling in love with Merlin as well,” Arthur finished.

“All a ploy to get more of my mum’s brownies,” Merlin said without thinking, falling back into their long time debate over whether Arthur loved Merlin or the brownies more. Merlin was convinced it was the brownies, but Arthur always claimed otherwise.

“The brownies are just a bonus,” Arthur insisted. “I could give them up tomorrow if I had to.”

“Oh really,” Merlin challenged.

“Really.”

“And exactly how well did that work out for you last time you tried that? What were you doing again? Trying to lose some of that fat you’d gained from eating too much of my mum’s baking?”

Morgana snorted into her water before Arthur could retort, reminding Merlin that they were at a dining table in a palace, not one of their London flats. Most of the table seemed to be glancing between him and the prince with varying degrees of apprehension. Which was when Merlin remembered how Arthur had told him about how he used to be very sensitive about his weight. He hadn’t been for a while now, but Merlin got the sense that nobody here knew that and were all now under the impression that he had just insulted the prince he claimed to be in love with.

“Alright, so maybe I wouldn’t be able to give up the brownies,” Arthur said. “It’s your mum’s fault for being such an amazing baker.”

“So you bake as well?” Elena asked. “Or do you…” She trailed off, obviously unable to come up with anything else you might do at a bakery shop.

“Yeah, I bake,” Merlin said. There was some polite nodding around the table. “In fact, Arthur usually volunteers to be my taste tester when I’m trying out new recipes. I honestly can’t believe some of the things he’s put in his mouth in my kitchen.” Dead silence followed that comment. Morgana looked like she was going to bust a gut from holding in her laughter and Arthur was looking at him with a gaze that translated to, ‘ _Merlin, dear, I really think you need to put more thought into what you’re saying before you let it out of your mouth_ ’. Merlin went over the last sentence in his head and immediately felt his face heat up in embarrassment. Oh god.

“What I meant was that not every new recipe I try ends up being very good. Especially if I don’t really follow the recipe. Or if I forgot the recipe. Like that one time I was trying to make a pie from scratch and it was so bad that Arthur had to throw up after he tried it.” Fuck, that was just making everything worse. “Sometimes he taste tests for my mum too.” This was going downhill way faster than Merlin anticipated.

“Merlin’s mother and I have become very close,” Arthur interjected, trying to save Merlin from himself. Merlin, unfortunately, seemed to be suffering from severe stupidity that night.

“Which is kind of amazing because my mum never approves of anyone I go out with.” Shit, why was he still talking.

“Oh, how many have there been?” the king asked airily.

“Oh, not that many,” Merlin rushed to say. “Like six. I mean, four or…two.” Merlin looked down, trying not to think about the fact that everyone was staring at him and the king was looking smug again. He did the first thing that came to mind to try and steer the conversation away from anything having to do with him and grabbed the bowl next to his plate, taking a gulp of what was in it. “Mm, this soup is delicious,” he declared.

“That is the finger bowl,” the king informed him. Merlin set the bowl back down and wished a giant hole would open up in the ground and just swallow him.

-

Merlin went to bed feeling utterly horrible and woke up not feeling much better. He was pretty sure the humiliation he felt from last night’s dinner was going to stay with him for the rest of his life. As soon as he could, Merlin had abandoned the dining room and made straight for his room, not even waiting for Arthur to extricate himself from Elena. He’d curled up under the covers and done his best to just clear his mind and think about nothing. This entire trip so far just seemed to be one embarrassing event after another. Maybe he should just suffocate himself with his pillows. Or call someone.

He called Freya.

“Hello?” She sounded a bit distracted when she answered.

“I am most definitely not cut out for a life of royalty,” Merlin said by way of greeting.

“Merlin? Hold on.” There were the distant sounds of the bakery, a muffled conversation, and then the closing of a door. “Alright,” Freya said. “What happened?”

“There was this fancy dinner last night with a bunch of noble people and I made a complete idiot of myself,” Merlin explained.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Freya, I insulted a Baroness, made an accidental sexual innuendo in front of my boyfriend’s father, told everyone about the time Arthur threw up when I tried baking a pie from scratch because I couldn’t remember the recipe, and then I drank from the finger bowl and declared it delicious. And that was just during the salad course!”

“Wait, they actually have finger bowls? I thought those were a myth.”

“Really? I’m trying to tell you about how I humiliated myself in front of a king, a princess, a future duchess, a baron, a baroness, and a bunch of counts and countesses and that’s what you take away from it? That finger bowls are a real thing present at overly fancy dinner parties?”

“Did they have lots of silverware, too?” Freya asked, ignoring him. “Like multiple forks and all that shit?”

“The plate was literally surrounded by silverware.”

“Holy shit. Who needs that much silverware just to eat dinner?”

“No one does.”

There was quiet for a moment before they both burst out laughing.

“Seriously though,” Freya said when they calmed down. “Other than the dinner- which, by the way, I would’ve paid serious money to see you make an innuendo about sex in front of a king. What was the innuendo about?”

“Arthur putting things in his mouth in my kitchen,” Merlin admitted. Freya laughed again.

“It’s even funnier because you’ve actually-”

“Received blow jobs from Arthur in my kitchen,” Merlin finished, rolling his eyes again. “Yes, I am aware, thanks. I should never have let you get me drunk enough to share that.”

“No, you shouldn’t’ve. But really, how are things going?”

Merlin sighed, slumping back against his pillows. “Not well. The king hates me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”

“No, he actually hates me. Apparently, I’m ruining his carefully constructed plan to have Arthur marry a future dutchess. A future duchess, by the way, who is quite attractive and nice and actually knows which fork to use.”

“So what? You’re attractive, nice, and who cares about which fork to use? You can always google it.”

“Right, because that’s so appropriate at the dinner table.”

“I meant in the privacy of your room, you idiot.”

Someone knocked on the door. “Oh, I’ve gotta go,” Merlin said. “It appears my manservant is here.”

“Oh my god I thought Will was full of it, but you actually have a manservant!”

Merlin smiled. “Yep.”

“Can you bring him back to London?”

“Probably not. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Alright, bye. And remember, you’re way more beautiful and nice than a future duchess!”

“Thanks? I think?” Merlin hung up, shaking his head. Sometimes he wondered if he should get new friends. Although, chatting with Freya _had_ cheered him up. He tossed his phone on the bed and called, “Come in, Daegal.” The door opened and Arthur poked his head in.

“I’m not Daegal, but can I still come in?”

Merlin actually almost said no, courtesy of the crippling embarrassment he was still dealing with, but that would be childish so he waved Arthur in. The prince entered bearing a tray with tea on it and-

“Is that the yule log?”

“Yep.” Arthur set the tray on the table by the fireplace. “I thought this morning seemed like a good time to enjoy it. We do have to save some for Morgana though. I promised her a taste. Come on.” Merlin reluctantly dragged himself over to one of the chairs as Arthur poured them both tea and cut two slices of yule log.

“So,” Arthur said after Merlin had taken a bracing sip of his tea, “how are you this morning?”

Merlin groaned. “I’m never leaving this room again.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Arthur tried. Merlin gave him a disbelieving look. “Alright, it was pretty bad. But I’m sure everyone’s already forgotten about it.”

“Really? Because I’ll certainly be reliving it for the rest of my life.”

Arthur knelt by Merlin’s chair and took his hands. “I love you just the way you are.”

Merlin wrinkled his nose. “Even with all my unsuitable qualities?”

“Especially with all your unsuitable qualities.” Arthur frowned. “Alright, that sounded bad, but I promise I meant it in a really good way.”

“Uh huh, of course you did,” Merlin said, smiling a bit. He picked up the slice of yule log and took a bite out of it, relishing in the taste of his mother’s baking. It had been such a staple of his childhood that it was automatically associated with comfort and love. “Thanks, by the way, for bringing this up.”

“Thought you could use a pick me up this morning,” Arthur said, moving back to his chair.

“Aw, so sweet,” Merlin said. “Maybe I should get you to feel sorry for me more often if it gets you to do nice thing for me. First the sex when I injured myself and now cake for breakfast.”

“It’s you who should feel sorry for me,” Arthur said. “My father has scheduled me every minute from now until Christmas.”

“Well, you have responsibilities,” Merlin reminded him. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

-

“Before you go, your majesty, shall I go over your schedule for today?” Gaius asked, following Uther into the study. Uther gestured for him to go ahead. “Your ride at ten, followed by the royal procession. Tomorrow the benediction at eleven, statue dedication at noon, groundbreaking ceremony for the new children’s hospital at one, embassy signing at three-”

“Yes, yes, but have the flowers for the ball been delivered yet?” Uther interrupted.

“Red and green,” Gaius reported without missing a beat. “Though more red than green.”

“Hm.”

“Shall I order more green?”

“What do you think of...Merlin?” Uther asked.

Gaius made a quick note to order more green flowers. “I find him to be a rather charming young man.”

“Charming?” Uther snorted. “That’s what you’re going with after last night’s debacle?”

“I actually think he handled it rather well, considering he wasn’t born into any of this.”

“You like him,” Uther accused. 

“He has a certain way,” Gaius hedged, unsure how much he could get away with when Uther was so clearly determined to dislike Merlin.

“Could you be more noncommittal,” Uther grumbled.

“There are others I like less,” Gaius tried.

“Hm.” Uther straightened his riding jacket, giving Gaius a knowing look. “And who would that be, besides me at this moment?”

Well, if it was blunt Uther wanted. “That list would occupy most of the day, I’m afraid.”

“This is not how things are done,” the king said. “This throne is far too important for Arthur to go running off and bring home some common boy who knows nothing of what it takes to rule this country.”

“Perhaps Merlin is not as incompetent as you think,” Gaius said.

“He works in a bakery, Gaius, he has no great ambitions, no sense of tact, nothing that would make him a suitable spouse for a future king. This goes against every tradition.”

“Perhaps it’s time for new traditions.”

The opening of the door interrupted them before Uther could tell Gaius exactly what he thought of new traditions and Elena entered the room. She curtsied. “You wanted to see me before the morning ride, your majesty?”

“Ah, yes, Elena, do come in,” Uther said, smiling warmly at her. “How have you been enjoying your stay?”

“It’s been lovely,” Elena said, smiling herself. A moment later she frowned. “There is something I was wondering about though.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s just that Arthur and Merlin seem like more than friends,” she said hesitantly. “And I don’t want to intrude on anything-”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Uther lied through his teeth. “Merlin is just a very good friend of Arthur’s that he met at university and wanted to introduce to the family.”

“Oh. Alright then. It’s just that he doesn’t seem very interested in spending time with me and I’m not sure he sees me as anything more than a friend either.”

“Nonsense. He’s just been away for a while. All the two of you need is to spend some time together so Arthur can remember how good you are for him.”

Elena didn’t look like she was completely convinced, but she nodded anyway, curtsied again, and left. Gaius felt rather sorry for her, to be honest. Elena was a lovely young woman and she would make a great duchess one day. It was unfair of the king to drag her into his schemes. All it was likely to do was build resentment between Arthur and Elena, ruining the friendship they had. Morgana already treated Elena with a far more frosty attitude than she ever had before, feeling defensive of her brother’s relationship with Merlin. But once Uther had set his mind to something he wasn’t easily persuaded to change it. Gaius could only pray that this time things worked out for the better.

-

Arthur looked good in a riding outfit, something Merlin never thought he would think about anyone in a riding outfit. He’d always thought that sort of thing looked so pretentious, but as he walked Arthur out to the courtyard, Merlin was seriously tempted to drag his boyfriend back inside and postpone the morning ride by an hour or so. The sight of the king already seated in his saddle along with the princess and Elena derailed that thought though.

“There you are,” the king called. “Mount up. Merlin, will you not be joining us for the morning ride?”

“Nope, just seeing you off,” Merlin said, resisting the urge to hide behind Arthur.

“Merlin doesn’t know how to ride, Father,” Arthur said, a note of irritation in his voice. “I believe I told you that.” The king just smiled. Ignoring him, Arthur turned and kissed Merlin on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Or later,” Elena piped up. Morgana shot her a dark look for that remark as Arthur pulled himself up on his horse and they headed out. Merlin watched them a moment before turning to go back inside. He wasn’t sure what to think of Elena. Honestly, she seemed nice, but Merlin couldn’t help noticing that she seemed much more interested in Arthur than a friend would be. Not to mention the way Morgana was acting, like she was making it her personal mission to shut down any attempts Elena made to steal Merlin’s man. It wasn’t something he should worry about, he decided. Arthur wouldn’t have brought him here for Christmas if he weren’t serious about their relationship. At least, that’s what Merlin assumed.

The sound of laughter and conversation drew Merlin’s attention and he followed it through to a small room where some of the staff were sitting around a table, polishing silverware.

“Hi,” Merlin said, stepping into the room. Everyone immediately got to their feet.

“Please, how may I assist you,” Gaius asked.

“Oh, please, don’t get up,” Merlin said. As they all sat back down Merlin spotted the tree on a table off to the side. “You kept the tree!”

“Oh yes,” Daegal said, glancing over his shoulder at it. “We were just about to decorate it.” He gestured to the tea set on the table. “Would you like a cup?”

“Oh yes, that would be lovely,” Merlin said, sinking into a spare seat. “And, maybe, if you don’t mind, I could help you decorate the tree?”

“Yes, of course! We’d love your help!”

The morning slipped away as one of the maids, Sefa, brought out a box of ornaments all donated from the staff and they set to decorating. They wrapped the little tree in gold tinsel and hung baubles from the branches. Merlin found some blank paper and used it to to make a snowflake, which they had a fun time figuring out how to attach to the top of the tree as a makeshift star.

“It keeps flopping over,” Daegal said, pushing the snowflake up straight again. The moment he took his hand away it slumped over on itself again.

“We need a smaller snowflake,” Sefa suggested. “Although, I don’t know. I kind of like it, in an odd way.”

“It has a certain charm about it,” Gaius mused.

“I heard laughter.” The unfamiliar voice cut through the room and Merlin turned to see the Baroness in the doorway. The staff immediately snapped to attention. “An unusual sound around here.”

“May I help you Baroness?” Sefa asked.

“Actually, I was looking for Merlin,” the Baroness said. She tilted her head to indicate for Merlin to follow her. Oh god. This must be about last night when he’d accidentally made an incredibly tactless remark about children. In his defense, he’d had no way of knowing the Baron and the Baroness couldn’t have children, but that didn’t mean they’d found it any less hurtful.

“I’m sorry about last night, Baroness,” Merlin blurted. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you-”

“You can call me Gwen,” she said, cutting him off before he could start rambling. “And you did nothing wrong.”

Merlin couldn’t help but scoff a bit. “I’m pretty sure I did everything wrong, but I do appreciate you saying that.”

“Left behind on the morning ride?” Gwen guessed. 

Merlin shrugged. “Yeah…”

“I had lessons all through childhood and I’m still not that good at riding,” she confided in him. “It’s not easy fitting in with these people.”

“But aren’t these people your people?” Merlin asked.

“Yes and no,” Gwen said. “My mother was a Baroness, but she and my father were separated from the time I was quite young. My brother and I didn’t really grow up in this life. Then when my mother died and my brother passed up the title, I suddenly found myself a Baroness.”

“That must’ve been hard,” Merlin said.

“Believe me, my brother won’t stop teasing me about The Princess Diaries,” Gwen said, rolling her eyes. She leaned in conspiratorially. “My etiquette tutor actually had me balance books on my head to teach me proper posture.” Merlin snorted. “Then, my first visit here for some royal ball or other, I got lost and ended up breaking a priceless vase.”

“Really? Okay, that does make me feel a little better,” Merlin admitted, recalling how he’d tripped over a most likely priceless rug in the parlor on his first day here.

“I’m going into town,” Gwen said, “which is my official excuse to go Christmas shopping. Do you want to come? Personally, I’d love the company.”

Merlin didn’t even have to think about it. “I’d love to.”

-

Morgana, being the incarnation of the devil, had made a big deal about feigning a headache when they returned from the morning ride so as to get out of the rest of the day’s obligations. Uther, who was always far more lenient with his daughter than his son, had told her she should stay behind and rest. Which was how Arthur had ended up in the back of a car with just his father for company as they rode through Camelot in the traditional Christmas royal procession.

“The crowd seems even smaller this year,” Uther observed, waving genially to his subjects out the window.

“They’re probably bored with this by now,” Arthur said, waving as well. “Same clothes, same smiles, same waves.”

“Well perhaps next year you can ride in on a skateboard,” Uther said sarcastically and Arthur sighed in irritation.

“I’m just saying, the world’s different now. _I’m_ different now. But you never want to talk about it.”

“Yes, because this is exactly the kind of conversation I’d been hoping for during the procession.”

Arthur turned away, staring out the window. The car rolled to a stop near the Christmas market and he spotted Merlin at one of the stalls, chatting with a vendor. It was so tempting to roll down his window and yell to get Merlin’s attention. Or better yet, just abandon the car altogether to join him for a day of shopping, which wasn’t Arthur’s favorite activity but was much better than what he was doing now. This was why Arthur had been so reluctant to come back to Albion, even after he’d graduated. He never seemed to have any time to himself.

The Baroness of Newbury appeared at Merlin’s side, hooking a hand in Merlin’s elbow and tugging him towards another stall. She glanced over her shoulder as she did so and spotted the car, which she pointed out to Merlin. Looking over his shoulder as well, Merlin smiled, warm and fond, as he waved. Arthur waved back. He was glad to see Merlin had made at least one friend other than Morgana. Gwen was a lovely person. She would take good care of him.

The car continued on. Feeling eyes on him, Arthur glanced at his father to find the king giving him an unreadable look.

-

It wasn’t until the next morning that Arthur managed to find some time to slip away. He woke Merlin with waffles in bed, then took him out to show him around the palace grounds. The sprawling gardens were beautiful, especially all decorated for Christmas.

“We should come back out when it’s dark,” Merlin said, unconsciously moving closer to Arthur to ward off the chilly winter air. “I bet the lights are beautiful at night.”

“They are,” Arthur said. “We’ll do that. Maybe after the Christmas ball tonight.” Something about the way Arthur said it caught Merlin’s attention, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to spend much time together. It’s not always like this.”

“Oh don’t be sorry,” Merlin said.

“You could come with us,” Arthur suggested.

“I’d be in the way.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“I’d be in your father’s way.”

“Yeah, okay, point conceded.” Arthur squeezed his hand. “After tonight, it’s just us. The _old_ us.”

“Ugh, I miss those losers,” Merlin said.

“Yeah, me too.”

They took their time walking among the trees and flowers. It was peaceful out here and as beautiful as it was during the Christmas season, it was probably even more so in spring when everything was in bloom. Merlin didn’t really like thinking too much of the future right now, but he spared a moment to hope he would still be in Arthur’s life when spring came.

Eventually they came upon a path lined with tall hedges that led to the steps of a beautiful little chapel.

“This is my favorite spot,” Arthur confided as they approached.

“I can see why,” Merlin said. “It’s beautiful. So you’ve got a church and a cemetery here.”

“Yep. You can get baptized, married, and buried without ever having to leave the grounds.”

“And hopefully in that order.”

“Mhm.” They stopped at the bottom of the steps. Arthur looked up at the chapel with something like longing. “Unfortunately, all royal weddings are done in the grand cathedral, which seats about 2000. I always thought if I was to get married it would be nice to do it here.”

“So, you’ve thought about getting married?” Merlin ventured.

Arthur shrugged. “Well, on occasion. You?”

“No,” Merlin denied immediately. “I mean, a few times. Once or twice.” Arthur raised an eyebrow at him and Merlin caved. “Alright, so sometimes I get drunk with Freya and we end up talking about what our ideal weddings would be.”

“Define sometimes,” Arthur said, smirking. Merlin narrowed his eyes.

“She’s already told you about this.” Arthur’s smirk only widened. “You know, sometimes I honestly can’t tell who’s worse, Will or Freya.”

“Depends,” Arthur said. “Will’s sort of an all around arse, but Freya’s the one who tells me your secrets when she’s drunk.”

“Maybe I just need new friends.”

“Maybe. You know,” Arthur said, turning more serious again as he took Merlin’s hands, “if we were ever to... we could do it anywhere. I wouldn’t care.”

“Me either,” Merlin said.

“Back of the bakery.”

“IHOP.”

“Your mum would bake the cake, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Arthur smiled at him. “I know our relationship has taken a really odd turn, lately, but even though I have to be Prince Arthur, I’m still Arthur from London.” Merlin wasn’t so sure about that. He hadn’t seen much of Arthur from London since they’d arrived, but that didn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. Merlin was finding himself rather fond of Prince Arthur. They started to lean in towards each other.

“There you are- Oh! I remember this place!” Elena appeared around the corner, looking up at the chapel with a smile. “Remember when we staged a pretend wedding here? And we had Morgana pretend to be a priest?” Merlin choked, though he wasn’t sure if it was from surprise at learning that Arthur and Elena had had a fake wedding as children or if it was from amusement at the thought of Morgana playing the part of a priest.

He looked at Arthur and said, a bit teasing, a bit exasperated, “Oh, so you’re already married.”

“We were children,” Arthur protested.

“Arthur found this plastic ring,” Elena told Merlin. “I thought it was the prettiest thing back then. I think I still have it actually. I know it’s just a worthless little thing, but it represents a lot of good childhood memories.” It was just child’s play, Merlin knew that, but the fact that he knew Uther wanted Arthur to marry Elena made it odd to discuss marriage with her, even if it was a pretend wedding from over a decade ago.

“Is there something you needed, Elena?” Arthur asked pointedly.

“Oh, your father’s looking for you,” she said. “He said you’ve got a full schedule today and you can’t afford to get behind so it’s imperative that you leave immediately.”

“Right, of course.” Arthur’s smile was strained as he followed Elena. Merlin looked back at the chapel regretfully. It seemed that every time they managed to find five minutes to themselves they were doomed to be interrupted.

The king was waiting for them on the steps leading back inside the palace. “Ah, Elena, I see you’ve found them,” the king said. “Arthur are you ready to go?”

“Just about,” Arthur said.

“Then come along. We’ve no time to waste.” The king’s gaze moved to Merlin where he stood quietly beside Arthur. “Merlin. Are you ready for the Christmas ball this evening?”

“I believe so,” Merlin answered.

“Good. Arthur.” The king turned and ascended the stairs without waiting to see if his son would follow, Elena trailing along behind him. Arthur turned to Merlin.

“Sorry, looks like duty calls.” 

“It’s fine,” Merlin bit his lip. “I shouldn’t be worried about the ball, should I?”

“No, of course not.” Arthur squeezed his shoulder and smiled. It wasn’t as reassuring as it was probably meant to be. “I’ll see you in a few hours alright?”

“Yeah.” Merlin watched Arthur disappear into the palace. He wasn’t at all convinced that the ball would be fine, not after that disaster of a dinner on his second evening there. He didn’t know anything about proper royal etiquette or protocol and he wasn’t even entirely sure any of his clothes were actually suitable for a ball. Tonight would definitely be a disaster.

Merlin was still thinking this as he climbed the staircase inside, hoping he was on his way to his room, but aware that he was most likely lost. He rounded a corner and nearly ended up mowing down Morgana.

“Oh sorry!” he exclaimed. “Shouldn’t you be off with the king and Arthur?”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Morgana said. Then she shrugged. “And I’m not the heir to the throne. Don’t really want to be, to be honest. Seems like an awful lot of work. Not to mention that throne looks even more uncomfortable than the one I have now.”

Merlin frowned. He hadn’t seen the throne room yet and therefore didn’t know what any of the thrones looked like. “You don’t sit on it very often do you?”

“No. Just often enough to learn to hate it.” Morgana looped her arm through Merlin’s and started pulling him down the hall. “So what are you up to?”

“Contemplating the many ways in which I can be a total embarrassment at the Christmas ball tonight,” Merlin answered bleakly. A thought occurred to him. “Hey, you’re a princess.”

“Really?” Morgana feigned surprise. “I am? No wonder I have all those tiaras.”

“No, I mean you could teach me how to…” Merlin struggled for the right words as a positively evil smile slowly bloomed on Morgana’s face.

“Teach you how to be a princess?” she suggested with false innocence.

“No, but yes,” Merlin said. “Because I’m not a princess-”

“But you would essentially be one if you end up marrying Arthur.”

Merlin would’ve stumbled back in shock at the casual mention of marriage had Morgana not had such a strong hold on his arm. “What-”

“Princess lessons are a lot of work though,” Morgana went on, ignoring his spluttering. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

Merlin wanted to protest calling them princess lessons, but since he didn’t think that would actually stop Morgana, he settled for giving her a firm, determined nod.

“Alright, then. Let’s get started.” There was a twinkle of mischief in Morgana’s eyes that made Merlin wonder if he weren’t going to regret this decision in the very near future. Too late to back out now though. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad.

-

Arthur had forgotten how long a day could be when it was filled with royal duties and obligations. Of course, he had to wonder how many of the things he’d done that day had really required his presence and how much of it had been his father doing everything in his power to prevent Arthur from spending time with Merlin. Probably most of them.

“Ah, there you are, sir. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Arthur startled out of his thoughts and turned to see Gaius coming into the armory, presumably to tell him the first guests were to be arriving soon and his presence was required in the ballroom to greet them.

“Gaius, you’ve known me all my life,” Arthur said.

“That I have,” Gaius agreed.

“Have you ever seen me happier than I am with Merlin?”

Gaius smiled. “That I have not.”

“Good.” Arthur took a deep breath and reached into the inner pocket of his evening jacket, pulling out a ring box. “I’m going to propose to him tonight.”

Gaius’s smile grew. “I don’t think you’ve ever had a better idea in your life, Arthur.”

“Mattress races down the stairs was a pretty good idea,” Arthur said.

“Yes, right up until you and your sister both ended up with concussions,” Gaius reminded him. “This, at least, is far less likely to end in injury.”

“Physical injury at least.” Arthur frowned. “I love Merlin and I can pretty confidently say he loves me back, but… After everything that’s happened over the past few days I’m…” He made a vague gesture in the air, earning a raised eyebrow from Gaius. “Scared,” he blurted. “Scared that he doesn’t love me quite enough to put up with everything that would change if he says yes.”

“Well there’s only one way to find out,” Gaius said.

“I wouldn’t blame him for saying no,” Arthur said quietly. “Not with how obvious my father has made it that he doesn’t approve of Merlin. At all. I wish he could just forget about being a king for five minutes and be my father.”

Gaius patted his shoulder and said, “It’s not forbidden to dream,” before excusing himself to get back to work. Despite how nervous he was about his plan tonight, Arthur found himself smiling, his hand tightening around the ring box before he tucked it away.

-

As he smiled and shook hands with yet another Lord Someone from Somewhere Important, Arthur wondered why Morgana was never forced to do this. She may not be the heir to the throne, but she was still a princess. Surely she should share at least some of the royal burden. Specifically the boring parts. As it was, she hadn’t even made an appearance at the ball yet. His father, of course, was off mingling, leaving Arthur to greet the guests on his own. It didn’t help that Arthur couldn’t even remember who half these people were. Thankfully, Gaius had taken up position next to him and took the liberty of quietly informing him of the names of the approaching guests so that Arthur didn’t look like a complete idiot when he greeted them. He was getting antsy though. When he’d tried to see Merlin before the start of the ball Morgana had informed him that Merlin was busy getting ready and he would just have to wait. Arthur dreaded to think what his sister had done to his boyfriend. It couldn’t be anything too bad. After all, Morgana liked Merlin. Still, she’d had a scheming look about her and Morgana’s scheming was always something to be wary of.

Gaius nudged him and gestured towards the stairs right as a gasp rippled through the hall. Arthur turned and his jaw nearly dropped. Grudgingly, he had to admit that for once Morgana’s scheming had turned out brilliantly. Everyone who’s attention was directed towards the stairs was probably entranced by Morgana’s emerald green evening gown, but Arthur barely even noticed her. His eyes were fixed on Merlin. The suit wasn’t one that Merlin owned, Arthur knew that for a fact, having bought nearly all of them himself. Black trousers that hugged the long lines of his legs, a matching evening jacket over a deep purple waistcoat and crisp white shirt. The bowtie, which Arthur assumed Morgana had tied because he had seen Merlin attempt to tie one once and it hadn’t gone well, matched the color of the waistcoat.

Morgana smirked as she walked Merlin up to Arthur and asked, “Like what I’ve done with your man?” Merlin blushed, but his smile was pleased.

“You look amazing, Merlin,” Arthur said.

“The shopping trip was a bit terrifying,” Merlin said, “but you can’t deny Morgana’s got great taste.” The woman in question tilted her chin up in pride.

“Merlin does deserve some of the credit,” she admitted.

“What, for standing still and letting a stranger stab me with pins?”

“Exactly. Arthur’s never so well behaved when he’s being fitted for something. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to get out of here before you two start being all sickeningly sweet again.” Morgana swept off into the crowd.

Merlin glanced at the people around them. “They’re staring at us.”

“Yes, well, I think it’s just occurred to them that you’re not here with Morgana.”

Merlin huffed out a tiny laugh. “Is it actually possible to pass out from embarrassment?” he asked quietly. “Because I kind of feel a bit lightheaded.”

“I’m not sure,” Arthur said. He offered his hand, smiling when Merlin took it. “But before you do that, at least let me introduce you to a few people.”

It was almost like introducing a different person, Arthur mused as he took Merlin around the ballroom. Clearly shopping wasn’t the only thing Merlin and Morgana had been up to today and it was heartwarming, in Arthur’s opinion.

“Is this my sister’s doing?” Arthur whispered as they moved away from an earl and his wife.

“I asked her for some help,” Merlin said. “I really didn’t want a repeat of that dinner.”

“Well, you’re doing great. I’d say Morgana’s princess lessons have really paid off.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “If we weren’t in public I’d hit you for that. I am _not_ a princess.”

Arthur just laughed and pulled Merlin along to the next guest, an elderly man with a very stern air around him. “Merlin,” the prince began, “may I present the Grand Duke, Kilgharrah.”

“Your grace,” Merlin greeted, inclining his head respectfully.

“Ah, at last,” Kilgharrah said. “I was starting to worry that you would never show up.”

“Um…” Merlin floundered. God, Arthur had forgotten how odd the Grand Duke was. The man never made any sense. He turned to Arthur.

“Make sure you don’t lose him now,” the Grand Duke warned, then moved off.

“What was that?” Merlin asked.

“No idea,” Arthur said. “I’m pretty sure the Grand Duke is actually senile, but he’s also a Grand Duke, so.” He shrugged. “Ah, I see Gwen has finally arrived.” He pulled Merlin across the room.

“Arthur,” Gwen greeted, holding her hand out. Arthur took it and kissed the back of her hand. Then her eyes moved to Merlin and a smile lit up her face. “Merlin!” She hugged him. “Oh you look absolutely wonderful!”

“Thanks,” Merlin said. “Although, Morgana’s the one who’s responsible for the clothes. You look great too, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you! Don’t let me forget that we need to have a proper chat later,” Gwen said. She slid her arm through her husband’s. “Come on, Lance. We’ve got to track down Morgana. Excuse us.” They disappeared into the crowd. A moment later the king approached them. He cast a critical glance over Merlin before looking at Arthur.

“It’s time to open the ball,” the king said.

“Of course.” He sent Merlin an apologetic glance for having to temporarily abandon him and followed his father up to the stage.

-

So far the ball wasn’t going nearly as bad as Merlin had assumed it would. In fact, aside from that weird thing with the Grand Duke, he would actually say it was a success so far. The king clearly still didn’t approve of him, but Merlin supposed being ignored rather than mocked was a step forwards.

The music came to a halt as the king and the prince took the stage.

“Welcome all,” the king began magnanimously. “I can’t think of a greater gift this Christmas season than having our very own Prince Arthur back from his academic adventures. And while I’m not sure that they were completely academic-” The crowd tittered with laughter. “-I can only assume that he has retained enough knowledge to resume his royal duties and to tie a proper tie.” It was bizarre to hear Uther cracking jokes and even more so to hear people laughing at them. Merlin wondered if the crowd actually thought the jokes were funny or if they simply wanted to avoid offending their sovereign.

“Thank you for that wonderful vote of confidence, Father,” Arthur said and the crowd laughed more. Merlin supposed they didn’t know the prince well enough to pick up on the note of real aggravation in his words.

“So please enjoy the ball,” Uther continued, “and may all your holidays be bright.” The king and prince left the stage to polite applause. Arthur immediately returned to where Merlin was waiting.

“I know you’re not really much for dancing,” Arthur began.

Merlin snorted. “What makes you say that? The fact that I have a tendency to end up breaking things and injuring myself?”

Arthur laughed. “Essentially. Nevertheless, I was wondering if you’d like to-”

“Arthur!” Elena appeared so suddenly that Merlin squeaked in surprise. “We’re still doing the opening waltz together, aren’t we?” She turned to Merlin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation, it’s just that Arthur and I have always danced the opening waltz. It’s basically tradition by now, I guess. You don’t mind, do you? It would only be the one dance.”

“I…” For the second time that evening Merlin found himself struggling for a response. _No_ , he wanted to say, _of course you can’t just steal my boyfriend for the opening waltz_. Thankfully, Arthur stepped in.

“Actually, Elena, I really think this year the opening waltz should go to my boyfriend.” He looked at Merlin. “That is, if you want to?”

“I’d love to.” Merlin smiled. “I can’t promise I won’t step on your toes, of course, but I think Morgana might actually hurt me if I waste all the time she spent today teaching me how to dance.”

“Boyfriend?” Elena said, an odd look on her face. “Oh. _Oh_. Um, excuse me. I need to… Sorry, I really, um…” She almost tripped over her dress in her haste to leave. Merlin frowned after her, even as Arthur led him out onto the dance floor.

As they began to dance, Arthur raising an impressed eyebrow at Merlin’s almost graceful steps, Merlin said, “Do you know, I’m starting to get the impression that Elena didn’t realize we’re together.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Arthur said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if my father had something to do with it. Spin?” Before Merlin could decide whether or not that was a good idea, Arthur had already done it, twirling Merlin around smoothly before resuming the basic box step that was the waltz’s foundation.

“Remind me to have my mum send Morgana a great big box of her baking for the dance lessons,” Merlin said.

“I will do no such thing,” Arthur said. “I’m not sharing with my sister if I don’t have to.” Merlin laughed. At the end of the song Arthur dipped him with a flourish and then they simply stood there, just looking at each other. Arthur looked hesitant.

“What is it?” Merlin asked.

“Let’s go out to the gardens for a bit,” Arthur suggested. “There’s something I want to ask-”

“Arthur, there you are,” the king said, appearing as suddenly as Elena had. “There are so many people you must remember to speak to tonight to make up for last year. Have you spoken to Lord Godwin yet?”

“No I haven’t,” Arthur said, exasperated. “I’ll do that later. Right now I-”

“You will do it now, Arthur,” the king ordered. Merlin dreaded being dragged around to greet more nobility. Morgana had drilled all the correct ways to address the different ranks into him until he could probably recite them all in his sleep, but his nerves made it harder to keep it all straight.

Taking note of Merlin’s expression, Arthur said, “Why don’t you just wait here? This shouldn’t take too long and there really is something I want to ask you.”

“Alright.”

Arthur headed off into the crowd and Merlin tried not to be too disappointed. This is what it would be like all the time if he stuck around, he reminded himself. A prince had responsibilities to fulfill. He watched Arthur move about the room, noting that he often ended up in the company of young ladies who were probably single. It was disheartening to watch, even more so when a nearby couple started speculating over which of the eligible young ladies present tonight would be the best match for Arthur. It was like nothing earlier had even happened, like Arthur hadn’t been taking Merlin around and introducing him to everyone, like they hadn’t danced together. He may as well be invisible for all anyone here seemed to care.

Merlin turned away. He needed some space. Slipping from the ballroom Merlin followed one of the servants through to the kitchen where he found Daegal and Sefa filling trays with canapes.

“Hey,” Merlin said, smiling at Daegal as he sat on the table. “Don’t let me interrupt. I just need a break.”

“I don’t blame you,” Daegal said. “I’ve only got to hand out canapes and even I can’t stand to be in there for long.”

“It’s much more fun back here anyway,” Sefa added.

“Man, I’m starving,” Merlin said. “I’d kill for anything that isn’t the human equivalent of fancy feast.” Daegal and Sefa gave him confused looks. “It’s fancy cat food,” he explained. “Oh! Pizza. I think I would actually commit murder right now for a pizza.”

“We could make one!” Sefa exclaimed. “I don’t even remember the last time I had pizza! Let’s do it!”

“Can we really?” Merlin asked. “I mean, is that allowed?”

“Well why not?” Daegal said, shrugging.

“I just don’t want you guys to get in trouble.”

“We won’t be missed for a bit.”

“Alright then.” Merlin hopped off the table. “Let’s make a pizza!”

-

When Arthur finally managed to extricate himself, he returned to the spot he’d left Merlin only to find that his boyfriend had disappeared. He scanned the crowd with a frown that deepened with every moment that he didn’t spot that familiar head of dark hair. Where had Merlin gone? He snagged Morgana’s elbow as she passed.

“Have you seen Merlin?”

“No, I haven’t.” Morgana matched his frown and did a quick survey of the ballroom herself. “Hm. Have you checked outside? I wouldn’t be surprised if he just needed some space and a bit of fresh air. It’s easy to forget how overwhelming this sort of thing is to someone who wasn’t raised in it.”

“Yeah, alright, I’ll check outside,” Arthur grudgingly agreed. He’d asked Merlin to wait right here for him and he couldn’t think of any reason why Merlin would wander off. He spied Gaius through the crowds. Maybe Gaius knew where Merlin had gone. But before he could make his way over to the butler his father stepped into his path.

“Have you spoken to Mithian and her fiance yet?” the king asked.

Arthur ignored his father’s question to ask one of his own. “I don’t suppose you know where Merlin is, do you?”

“I assume he’s around,” the king said. “In the meantime, you cannot neglect your duties Arthur. You have so much catching up to do after all the time you’ve spent away.” Arthur just barely refrained from groaning. He’d forgotten how awful these things were. No wonder he hadn’t come back for Christmas the previous year. As he went off to find Mithian and congratulate her on her engagement, Arthur missed the calculating look his father sent in the direction of the kitchen.

-

The pizza looked amazing. They’d commandeered a corner of the kitchen and Merlin had shown Daegal and Sefa how to toss the dough. He couldn’t wait to put it in the oven. While it cooked he could go find Arthur. Maybe the prince would enjoy taking a break from the ball to have some pizza.

“Oh, we should put mutton on it!” Sefa said, bringing a plate over.

“Mutton on pizza?” Daegal asked, raising disbelieving eyebrows.

“There are no limits to what you can put on a pizza,” Merlin said. “And honestly, mutton pizza does sound kind of amazing. Although that might just be because I’m hungry.”

“You can put it on half,” Daegal decided. “That way you two can have your gross mutton pizza without forcing me to have it as well.”

“What is this?”

The stern, disapproving voice of the king immediately sucked the joy out of the room. Daegal and Sefa bowed their heads in deference with mumbled, “Your majesty”s. Uther ignored the servants in favor of pinning Merlin with his intimidating gaze.

“We were making a pizza,” Merlin admitted. It wasn’t like he could deny it with the evidence in plain view.

“A pizza,” the king repeated, looking repulsed at the idea of greasy commoner food. “It appears,” he went on, looking now at Daegal and Sefa, “that it is more important for you to take care of your stomachs than to tend to your jobs and take care of our guests. You’re fired.” Daegal’s eyes widened and Sefa gasped.

“What?” Merlin blurted. “No, you can’t.”

“And why is that?” the king demanded.

“Because this is my fault,” Merlin said. “It was my idea to-”

“They know their places,” the king interrupted. “Perhaps the problem here is that you don’t know yours. You’re still under the impression that you belong with Arthur. But he belongs with a royal, not a commoner. The throne is more than just a bench covered with velvet. It is so much more. You have no idea what it takes to be royal.” And with that, the king turned and walked out. _That hurt more than I expected_ , Merlin thought. He turned to Daegal and Sefa.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“You didn’t know,” Daegal said.

“No, but I should have-”

“Don’t worry sir.”

Merlin took a step back. “Sir?”

“You’re a guest of the prince and I’m a servant.” Daegal and Sefa both inclined their heads towards him respectfully before leaving. The king was right, Merlin decided. It didn’t matter that he loved Arthur. What mattered was that Arthur would one day rule Albion and Merlin would only get in his way. He didn’t belong here. It was time he went home.

-

Arthur was furious. He’d been forced to speak to just about everyone in the room before he finally got away long enough to look for Merlin. Then when he was finally on his way out to the gardens Morgana had come up to him. The look on her face said everything.

“I spoke to Gaius,” Morgana had said. “Merlin went back to the kitchens for a break from everything and Uther went to speak to him. Gaius thinks he went back to his room after that.”

So that was where Arthur was heading now. Because whatever his father had said, he knew it was bad, maybe even enough to drive Merlin away from Albion, and Arthur couldn’t let that happen.

“Arthur! Arthur wait!” Elena came running up to him, tripping over her heels. Arthur automatically steadied her.

“Elena, I really don’t have time-“

“No, I know, you need to go talk to your man,” Elena finished for him. “Before you did that I just wanted to say I’m so sorry. I know I can be oblivious, but this is, like, an all new level for me. I had no idea things were so serious between you and Merlin. The king kept assuring me that you were just friends!”

“It’s fine, Elena,” Arthur said, unable to keep from smiling a bit. Elena really was lovely. “I don’t blame you for any of this.”

“I’m just so sorry,” Elena said again. “I just…the way you two look at each other I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner. I hope I haven’t ruined things.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” Arthur assured her. “My father is the one who’s been trying to chase Merlin off since the day we arrived. In fact, _I’m_ sorry that he dragged you into this. Now, if you’ll excuse me-“

“Oh yes, of course!” Elena backed away and waved him off. “Go find your man!” Elena returned to the ball and Arthur continued on up the stairs. He slipped his hand into his pocket, curling it around the ring box. This would be nothing like the proposal he’d been envisioning in his head, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was making sure that Merlin knew exactly how much he meant to Arthur.

-

Merlin was almost entirely packed by the time Arthur made an appearance in his room. He’d been expecting and dreading it, knowing Arthur wouldn’t just let him leave without at least saying goodbye and also knowing that it would probably be one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked, looking alarmed. Merlin shoved another shirt into his suitcase.

“I’ve had enough of the royal treatment,” he said. “I got two members of the staff fired.”

“What? Fired? I’ll fix it, I promise. Just…don’t go.”

“I can’t do this.” Merlin straightened to face Arthur. “Who I am isn’t good enough for these people and I don’t want to change myself just to fit in with them. I _like_ me. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

“Merlin…” Arthur trailed off, looking helpless before his expression resolved into something firm and determined and he dropped to one knee. Merlin’s eyes went wide. “Marry me. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Merlin struggled for words for several long moments, long enough for Arthur to start to look terrified, before blurting, “That’s it?” Arthur cracked a smile, small and nervous.

“Well, I did actually have an entire speech planned out,” he admitted. “I was going to take you out into the gardens and make you stand around in the cold while I went on about how amazing you are and how much I love you, but… it hasn’t worked out that way, has it.” He held the ring up a little higher. “So? What do you say? Will you marry me?”

Merlin stared at the ring. It was beautiful, but simple, almost exactly how Merlin had once described his ideal engagement ring and the fact that Arthur had apparently remembered that single, drunk conversation made this all the harder. But… “I want to say yes,” Merlin said. “More than anything. But I can’t.”

Arthur’s smile faded. “Why not?”

“I’m not- I’m not meant for this life,” Merlin said. “I don’t fit here. I’m not cut out for a life as the husband of a prince.”

“That’s not true,” Arthur said. Merlin turned back to his suitcase so that he wouldn’t have to see the heartbreak written all over Arthur’s face. But this was the right decision.

“We come from different worlds, Arthur. I wanted to believe that maybe this could work out, but I was just fooling myself. We both were. I’d be a terrible spouse for you. Someone like Elena would be much more appropriate.”

“I don’t care about appropriate.” Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around. “I love you, Merlin. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“I wish it were,” Merlin said. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I really am. But I can’t.” He pulled away and zipped up his suitcase.

“I’ll renounce my title!” Arthur declared, desperate. “If I have to choose between that and you then I choose you every time!”

Merlin closed his eyes, taking a moment to get his emotions under control. He turned back and took Arthur’s hands. “I can’t let you do that. You’re meant to rule Albion. And me… I’m meant to be in London. I wish it could be different, but it can’t.”

“So you’re just going to leave?” Arthur asked.

“In the morning,” Merlin said. “First thing. I’ve already booked the tickets and asked about a ride to the station. My mum is gonna be there at Heathrow to pick me up. So I’ll… I’ll see you before I leave?”

Arthur swallowed. “Of course. Yes, I- Well. Good night then.” At the doorway, Arthur turned back. “I hope you change your mind.”

Merlin looked away. “We’ll see.”

-

Merlin didn’t change his mind in the morning. The sun had barely come up before Arthur found himself standing outside, watching helplessly as Merlin dragged his luggage down the steps, pausing long enough to say goodbye to the staff that had come out to see him off and Morgana. He still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. Merlin was really leaving.

“I love you,” Arthur said when Merlin finally approached the car. Merlin’s smile was bittersweet.

“I love you too.”

“Then that’s what’s important, right?”

“I thought it was.” Merlin glanced back at the palace. “But it seems I was wrong.” He hesitated, then hugged Arthur tight. “Goodbye. Take care.”

“You too,” Arthur managed to choke out around the emotions clogging up his throat. He opened the door for Merlin while Leon loaded the baggage in the back. So this was it. This was how the best year of Arthur’s life ended. He stayed on the long driveway until the SUV, until Merlin, was out of sight, then turned and headed back into the palace. He could hear his sister keeping pace with him. She’d been glaring a hole through his head since she found out what was happening.

“You can’t let this be the end of it,” Morgana said.

“In case you didn’t notice, he’s the one who’s leaving,” Arthur told her. Morgana grabbed his arm.

“He loves you.” Her tone was fierce. “And you love him. You both just said it! And you’re really just going to let that go?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Arthur yanked his arm away and all but stormed off to his room.

-

The holidays felt like they’d had all the joy stolen from them. Arthur took to avoiding everyone by spending all of his time in the gardens, which turned out to be a terrible idea because all he ended up thinking about was how Merlin had wanted to see the trees lit up at night and now he’d never get the chance. He didn’t dare go near the chapel and be reminded of their brief conversation about marriage. Coming back to Albion had obviously been a mistake. He should’ve said no and stayed in London. At least then he would still have Merlin.

“Mind if I join your pity party?”

Arthur looked up to find Gwen standing over him. Morgana had invited her to stay through the day. He gestured for her to have a seat next to him on the low garden wall. For a while they just shared the silence.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Gwen said quietly. “Merlin really means that much to you doesn’t he?” Arthur shrugged. “You know I was personally quite impressed with the way he handled himself.”

“Well, if I ever see him again I’ll be sure to let him know,” Arthur said.

“You should go talk to him,” Gwen persisted.

“It won’t make any difference.”

“Of course it will. I could’ve just given up and let Lance go and it would’ve been the biggest mistake of my life. Relationships don’t always go smoothly, Arthur. You will inevitably come across an obstacle, but that doesn’t mean you should just give up.”

Arthur scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “I don’t have a choice, Gwen.”

She shook her head. “That’s not true. In life you always have a choice. Sometimes it’s just easier to think that you don’t.” She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry the holidays have been so hard this year. Take care, Arthur.” She got up to leave, but paused only a few steps away. “There’s something I remember Morgana saying that’s really stuck with me over the years. Sometimes you have to do what’s right and damn the consequences. I think this is one of those times.” Arthur stared at the ground, listening to Gwen’s departing footsteps and turning her words over his his mind. He did have a choice, he realized. To let Merlin go or to fight for him. Arthur tried to imagine life from now on without Merlin and found he couldn’t. That decided it, then.

Mind made up, Arthur headed for his father’s study. Uther was sitting behind his desk, pretending to do important paperwork, but Arthur could see that he wasn’t really reading anything.

“Father.”

The king startled. “Arthur. Elena is leaving soon, you should-“

“I love Merlin,” Arthur stated. “Elena is a lovely person and a wonderful friend, but she’s not the person I fell in love with. That’s Merlin. I know he’s not of noble birth and he hasn’t had a lifetime of etiquette lessons telling him how to use five different kinds of forks or whether or not he’s supposed to shake someone’s hand or whatever, but I don’t care about any of that. He makes me happy and I’m sorry that that isn’t good enough for you, that you would rather see me miserable.”

“I don’t want to see you miserable, Arthur,” Uther said. “I want to see you become the good, strong king I know you will be one day. You have responsibilities to this kingdom. Your spouse will have responsibilities to this kingdom. A commoner has no idea what it takes to support a king.”

“Merlin can learn.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Then give him the chance to prove it to you!” Arthur leaned on his father’s desk. “Merlin spent nearly the entire day of the Christmas ball getting a crash course in noble etiquette from Morgana in an effort to make sure he would know how not to make a fool of himself. He’s willing to try, but you’re not willing to give him a chance.”

“This is the way things are done. This is what it takes to be king!”

“Then I don’t want to be king!” The words startled Arthur as much as they startled his father, but they felt right. “If being king means giving up the best thing in my life that has ever happened to me, then I don’t want to be king.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Uther growled.

“No, I do. I do have a choice.” Arthur took a deep breath to brace himself. “And I choose Merlin.”

“You can’t do that!” Uther snapped.

“Why not?” Arthur shot back. “You married my mother for love!”

“That was different!”

“How was it different? Because she came from a noble family? What if she hadn’t? What if she’d been a commoner? Would you still have married her?”

There was silence in the study for a long time. The anger slowly drained out of Uther’s face and he sat back in his chair, eyes going to a framed picture on his desk, one Arthur knew was a family portrait from back when his mother was still alive. His father’s soft expression was enough to answer Arthur’s question, but it was nice to have confirmation in the form of the king’s quietly uttered, “Yes, I would still have married her.”

“Then you’re a hypocrite for denying me the exact same thing you claim you cherished above all else,” Arthur said. “All I’m asking is that you give Merlin a chance.”

“And if I can’t?” Uther asked.

Arthur stood tall, refusing to back down. “Then I will renounce my claim to the throne.” Another long silence followed.

“Very well,” Uther said, the reluctance clear in his tone. “I will try to be accepting of Merlin.”

That would have to do. It was a start, at least. “Then if you’ll excuse me, I need to catch the next train out of Albion.” Arthur left the study before his father could change his mind and ended up almost running right into Morgana just outside the door.

“So that sounded like it went well,” Morgana said, straightening the wrinkles in her sleeve from where Arthur had grabbed it to stop them both from sprawling all over the floor in an undignified heap.

“Still eavesdropping I see,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes.

Morgana smirked. “But of course. How else am I supposed to know what goes on around here?” Her smirk turned into a smile and the next thing Arthur knew, she was giving him a quick hug. “Good luck, Arthur. And make sure your bring back more of Hunith’s baking.”

“Thanks.” Arthur darted in to kiss Morgana on the cheek. “And I’ll think about it.”

-

The Christmas Eve rush did wonders for keeping Merlin too busy to think about Albion and all that had happened there, but it was ruined by the fact that Freya and Will kept sending him sad looks.

“Will you two stop it?” Merlin snapped. The last of the customers had left a few minutes ago and they were closing up shop for the holidays. And Merlin was really sick of those stupid, sad expressions on his friends’ faces.

“I can’t help it,” Freya said. “This isn’t fair. You two are so good together.”

“Were,” Merlin corrected, glad his mum was in the back so she couldn’t chip in. Although, she’d been very respectful so far of his request to not talk about this until after the holidays. “Why are you guys doing this to me on Christmas Eve of all times? We’re supposed to be happy and celebrating, not throwing me an unwanted pity party.”

“First,” Will began, “we don’t need to throw you a pity party. You do that just fine on your own with ice cream and Doctor Who reruns.” He dodged the plastic sample fork Merlin threw at his head. “Second, I think you’re giving up way too easily on this. So his dad doesn’t approve of you, so what? You guys are so in love it honestly sickens me. Like it actually makes me want to throw up.” Merlin threw another sample fork at him. “Oi, don’t waste those.”

“Feelings aren’t the only thing that matter,” Merlin said. “I wish they were, but they’re not. He’s a prince. Someday he’s going to be a king and I’d make a terrible consort. Arthur needs someone who can support him in his rule and that someone isn’t me.”

“I think he may feel differently.” Merlin turned to his mother as she came out of the back.

“What makes you say that?” he asked. Rather than answer, Hunith gestured out the window of the bakery. Merlin looked and startled when he saw Arthur out on the sidewalk. A dark SUV was parked across the road and Merlin was almost positive that was Leon leaning against the driver’s side.

“Just go and talk to him,” his mum encouraged gently. Merlin bit his lip, hesitating. But he would be lying if he said he was happy with the decision he’d made back in Albion. Back here in London, away from all the the complications, he could remember how good it had been. He could remember falling in love with the man standing outside the bakery, looking in with an expression that openly pleaded for Merlin to just come out there and let him say his piece. Sighing, Merlin decided it couldn’t hurt to just listen. He owed Arthur that much.

He shivered as he stepped out into the cold night air of December. “What are you doing here?”

“I love you,” Arthur said. “And I’m not ready to let you go.” He took a step closer. “I know the time you spent in Albion wasn’t easy. I don’t know if the two of us being together will ever be easy because you’re right about one thing, Merlin. I could never abandon my people. But I can’t do this alone.”

“You wouldn’t have to be alone,” Merlin said. “Elena or someone like her would be there for you.” Arthur took another step closer.

“I don’t want Elena or anyone else.” Another step and now there was almost no space between them. “I want you. And if you really, honestly don’t want this then I will leave and never bother you again.” Arthur’s fingers brushed over his cheek and Merlin couldn’t help but lean into it. “But don’t give up on this just because you think it’s what’s best for me. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you. You’ve opened my eyes to a lot of things and showed me a whole new way of looking at the world. _That’s_ what I want at my side. Someone who challenges me to be better and who isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m being a complete prat. So.” Arthur got down on one knee. “Will you marry me?” Merlin couldn’t help but smile at the use of that familiar insult, but it was short lived. Arthur stared to look disappointed. “Come on, are you really going to turn me down a second time?”

Merlin shrugged. “What about your father? He hates me. He doesn’t want me there. Is that ever going to change? Or am I just going to have to deal with that for the rest of my life?”

Arthur stood. “I don’t know. When I talked to him before I came here he said he would try to be accepting of you, but the truth is I don’t know what that means.” He gestured towards the bakery. “I know all of this means a lot to you and if you don’t want to leave that behind…” Merlin glanced over reflexively and was mortified to see that Will and Freya both had their phones out and were trying to surreptitiously film the whole thing. He forced himself to ignore them and focus on the issue at hand. Could he spend years dealing with a hostile father in law like Uther? Was he _willing_ to deal with it? And even if the answer to that was yes, there would be so many responsibilities that would come with being a royal consort. Life would never be simple. But maybe it was worth it anyway.

“Oh just say yes!” Will shouted. Merlin groaned.

“Do you guys just have no respect for privacy?” he snapped.

“You’re the one having this conversation on a public sidewalk! Now just say yes already!”

“No, wait!” Freya waved a frantic hand. “I forgot to press record! Do it one more time!” Merlin turned back to Arthur, shaking his head at his friends.

“Well, third time’s the charm isn’t it?” Arthur said and got back down on one knee, holding the ring up. “Merlin Emrys, will you marry me?”

Merlin schooled his face into a considering expression and pretended to give it some thought. “I suppose there are worse ways to spend the rest of my life,” he said. “Yes.” Arthur’s hands were shaking a little as he slipped the ring on Merlin’s finger. From the doorway of the bakery there was clapping and cheering.

“Kiss him!” Will yelled. “Kiss- oof!” Freya had probably elbowed Will in the stomach again, but Merlin wasn’t paying attention because Arthur had spun him around and dipped him, giving him a long, slow kiss.

“Show off,” Merlin whispered when they parted.

“We _are_ on camera,” Arthur reminded him. Merlin laughed. So what if life would never be simple? Simple was overrated anyway.


End file.
